Reconstruction
by NJ Coffee Queen
Summary: After the war, Draco and Hermione move to the muggle world to escape the memories of their pasts.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1  
By his own choice, Draco Malfoy was on his own in a strange new world. At eighteen, he had never been on his own, nor had he seen the muggle world. But he had survived a war. Muggle London would be no easy task, but he was sure he could survive that as well. With a little help from Transfiguration, he managed to convert his savings to muggle money, and found a decent one bedroom flat in the heart of London.

The only problem was his neighbor.

Not long after he had moved in, Hermione Granger took up residence in the same building. She kept to herself, leaving only when it was necessary, and was never a nuisance. But seven years of tension between the pair made it hard for them to accept one another as neighbors.

Then, one day, a thunderstorm changed everything.

The rain had begun early in the morning and lasted well into the night. Keys were still a foreign concept, and so Draco often forgot to take them with him when he left. He was soaked to the bone when someone finally let him in. Now that she had lowered her umbrella, Draco saw who his savior from the rain was.

"Thanks," he mumbled. They took the stairs to the third floor and turned left. Hermione reached her door first and inserted her key into the lock, all the while watching Draco fumble with his own doorknob.

"Locked out?" she asked. He nodded, scowling at the door that would not budge. "Wait here." She disappeared into her flat and returned minutes later with her wand discreetly hidden. Checking that they were the only ones in the hall, she whispered an unlocking spell and told him to give the knob another try.

"Still locked," he reported.

"Special charms?" she asked.

His cheeks turned a light shade of pink. "Better safe than sorry, right?"

Smiling, she agreed and invited him into her flat. "Do you still have a wand?" she asked, setting the tea kettle on the stove.

"I do, but I try not to use it too often," he replied, shivering in his wet clothes. With a wave of her wand, she dried his clothing and continued with the tea. "Do you think the muggles notice when we use magic?"

Hermione shrugged. "Only if we use it in front of them," she replied, pouring hot water into two mugs. "They can't explain magic, so they pretend it doesn't exist outside of silly parlor tricks. My parents knew it was real, but they still tried to deny it."

Draco accepted the tea she offered and took a tentative sip. "They didn't believe you were witch?" he asked.

Taking a seat on the sofa, she shrugged again. "They knew, but I don't think they ever understood," she explained. "Um, do you want to call the building supervisor? He should be able to let you into your flat."

"Does it make you nervous, my being here?" he asked, sitting down beside her.

His smile was lascivious, sending a shiver down Hermione's spine that had nothing to do with the dropping temperatures outside. "Not at all," she replied, holding her head high and hoping she looked haughty enough that it was believable. "I just assumed you didn't want to be here, sharing tea with a mudblood."

"Last I checked, I'm surrounded by muggles," he pointed out, placing his mug on the coffee table. "At least you know what I really am. And what I've been through."

"So, what? You want to be friends now?" she asked incredulously.

Draco shrugged. "Maybe friends isn't the right term," he said thoughtfully. "What about allies?"

"Why did you move here, Malfoy?" she asked, setting aside her own mug.

Sighing, he rose from the sofa and made his way to the front door. "That's a story for another time," he decided. "See you around, Granger."

Hermione stared at the door as it closed. The sound of his footsteps disappeared down the hall, and only when she was sure she could not be overheard did she turn to the fireplace. Harry had insisted she hook it up to the floo network so as not to lose connection with her friends in the wizarding world. She hadn't used it since moving in, but now she was grateful for it.

"Harry, what do you know about Malfoy's move to the muggle world?" she asked before he managed to say hello.

After retrieving the spare key to his flat from the building super, Draco let himself in and flopped down on the sofa. A smile crested on his lips as he thought of how rattled she became by his mere presence. Though he was sure the wizarding world knew he defected, he knew only a handful knew why. Even less understood why.

He hadn't expected to enjoy his brief time with Hermione Granger. Perhaps months of being alone had been the reason. She had been close but yet far away at the same time. Perhaps, until now, it had been his own foolish pride and ridiculous prejudices that had kept him from seeking her out. He had confined himself to his building as much as he could, fearful of the strange new world around him. Surely she could navigate it better than he.

Perhaps, now that they were together in a world so foreign to him, they could be friends. Here there would be no bloodlines to separate them. Here he was a muggle, a human, just like everyone else. And so was she. Without the tyranny of his father's prejudiced teachings hanging over his head, Draco believed that he and Hermione Granger could put the past behind him.

But, Draco knew, he would need a plan. It would take more than a few words and a couple of smiles to change the headstrong witch's mind. Something drastic would need to happen, something that would prove to her that he wasn't the same boy she had known from Hogwarts.

If only he knew how to do that.


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for the great response so far! Here's the next chapter before the weekend.

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Chapter 2  
For the third day in a row, Draco's mail was placed in her mailbox. Sighing, she took it along with her own and returned to her floor. The smell of maple syrup wafted down the hall, and the closer she got to Draco's door, the stronger it became. She knocked on the door softly, lost in the wonderful smell. It reminded her of home and a time before she was a witch. It reminded her of early Sunday mornings when her mother would make a big breakfast, and the smell of maple syrup would rouse her from deep sleep.

"Hey Granger," Draco greeted her.

Lost in reverie, she was startled when she realized he stood in front of her. "Oh, hi," she returned. "I got your mail again." She held it out to him, but he didn't take it.

Holding up his hands, he said, "They're a bit sticky. I was making breakfast."

She stepped back and retracted the envelopes. "Oh, alright. I'll bring it by later," she replied.

Draco smirked as she turned to walk away. "Or you could put it down inside," he suggested. Head held high despite the nervous shake of her thin body, Hermione walked past him and entered his flat. It was set up exactly like hers - a small kitchen to the left as she entered before the space opened up into the living room. He had a small, round table in the corner of the living room closest to the kitchen. The walls were lined with overstuffed bookshelves. A comfortable looking leather sofa faced a small television. To the right were two closed doors. The one on the left would be his bedroom, and on the right the bathroom.

"Where?" she asked, holding up the mail.

Draco returned to the kitchen to continue cooking. "The coffee table will be fine," he replied. "Are you as concerned as I am that the mail carrier can't figure out the difference between Hermione Granger, 3C, and Draco Malfoy, 3D?"

"Which bothers you more?" she wondered. "That he can't distinguish between the letters or that he thinks you're really a woman?"

He laughed and returned to the living room with two plates in hand. Hermione eyed them suspiciously as he sat down and poured a generous amount of syrup onto his pancakes. A part of her wondered when the bimbo would emerge from the bedroom. "You coming?" he asked, poised to cut into his breakfast.

"That depends," she replied, remaining rooted to her spot near the coffee table. "Are you going to poison me?"

As if to prove that he wasn't, he cut off a large chunk and stuck it in his mouth. He made a show of chewing and swallowing, then waited a few seconds and checked his pulse. "I'm still alive," he stated.

"That doesn't prove that you didn't poison mine," she retorted, arms crossed over her chest. "Besides, there are potions you can take to prevent the poison from affecting you."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself. More for me," he replied, grabbing the other plate. "But don't think I missed the way your stomach rumbled when you came in here or that look of longing in your eyes when you smelled the food. But, fine. Thanks for my mail. See you around."

She was sure she heard a hint of hurt feelings in his voice. Guilt drove her toward the table and she took the plate from his hand before sitting down across from him. "They smell good," she said, trying to sound cheerful as she cut into the pancakes. "Taste good too," she added with her mouth full.

"Don't placate me, Granger," he grumbled, pushing away his own breakfast, appetite gone.

"I'm not," she insisted as she took another bite. "My mum used to put brown sugar in her pancakes too. Warming up the syrup was a nice touch too."

"Cut it out," he muttered.

Hermione pushed his plate back to him. "I'm complimenting you, Draco," she informed him. "I'd of thought you'd be used to that by now. Now, eat before it gets cold."

The smirk returned and he continued to eat. "So, I'm Draco, huh?" he asked.

"I thought you would know that one too," she replied cheekily. "Take any knocks to the head recently? Do you know what year this is?"

He rolled his eyes. "Of course I do," he retorted, struggling to keep the smile off his face. "It's 1984."

"Making you a petulant four year old," she shot back.

Sitting up straighter, he continued to eat and ignored her jabs. There was something different about their verbal sparring now. There was nothing malicious in her words, nor a trace of hatred in his. It was witty banter, and, dare he say, friendly. Perhaps he hadn't needed a plan to lure her into a friendship.

Looking up, he noticed she'd finished her breakfast. "What's on the agenda for today?" he asked her, quickly eating the last few bites of his pancakes.

Hermione shrugged and picked up their plates to wash. "I have some errands to run," she told him. "Just the grocery store, maybe the bookstore. Harry and I were supposed to have lunch, but he had to cancel."

"You can take a look at my shelves," he offered. "Feel free to borrow whatever you like."

"Thanks," she replied as she scrubbed the fry pan.

He joined her in the kitchen and shut off the tap. "You don't have to do that," he told her, standing close enough to feel the heat of her body.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably and turned the water back on. "I don't mind," she said. "Besides you cooked. It's the least I can do."

Again, he turned off the water. "And you're my guest," he pointed out. "Guests don't do the dishes. Now, put down the sponge, and we'll back away from the sink slowly."

Sighing, she dropped the sponge into the sink and looked up at him. The intensity of his gray gaze made her shiver. He stepped back, putting enough space between them for her to move away from the sink. "Cold?" he asked her.

"I'm fine," she replied, offering him a small smile. "I, um, I should go. Thank you for breakfast. It really was great."

He walked her to the door. "See you around, Hermione."

Her smile grew for just a moment before returning to the small grin. "Bye, Draco."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
Once more that day, Hermione stood outside of Draco's flat, prepared to knock. Three times she attempted to knock before telling herself she was being ridiculous. The fourth time, he opened the door before she could work up the nerve. "Hey," he greeted her with a friendly smile.

"Hi," she returned nervously. "I, um, I picked up a video while I was out this afternoon. Any interest in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes?"

"Well, as a blond gentleman who likes myself very much, I'd have to say yes," he replied. "Just give me a couple of minutes to change. I'll come over to your flat."

She assessed him then - dark jeans, blue button down shirt, and just enough hair gel to make his hair look effortlessly messy. "Did you...do you already have plans?" she asked, feeling guilty that she had assumed he was just as alone as she was.

Draco shook his head reassuringly. "I can't watch a movie in these pants," he explained. "I prefer something with an elastic waistline. Especially if you watch movies the way I watch movies."

He sent her back to her flat to set up the entertainment while he changed and made a quick phone call. Hermione had left her door open for him, an unspoken invitation to enter when he was ready. The movie was set up and Hermione was puttering around the kitchen gathering snacks. "Make yourself comfortable," she said, her head in the refrigerator.

"Can I help with anything?" he inquired, joining her in the small kitchen.

Hermione stood, leaning against the open door. "Sure, you can decide if you want water, soda, or pumpkin juice," she replied. "And then you can sit down because tonight you're the guest."

Accepting a soda, he made his way to the living room and sat down to wait for her. Bowls of candy, chips and dips, and a variety of remote controls lined the coffee table. "It would seem that you do watch movies the same way I do," he remarked, grabbing a handful of jelly beans.

"But I have rules," she replied, joining him on the sofa. "Rule one - only I control the remote. Rule two - no talking during the movie. Rule three - use the loo now because I refuse to pause."

"Am I allowed to mock any character I don't like?" he inquired.

She side-eyed him and smirked. "Only if it's a character I don't like either," she replied, picking up the remote.

He stayed her hand. "Wait, I have a rule too," he said, a teasing air in his words. "Don't go falling in love with me, Granger."

"I wouldn't hold your breath on that, Malfoy," she retorted, shaking his hand off so she could hit play.

She awoke just as the movie finished and the television screen turned blue. A soft blanket covered her, but it was her pillow that was most surprising. Sitting up, she realized Draco had fallen asleep beside her, leaning on the arm of the sofa. And her head had rested on his shoulder. A quick glance at the clock told her it was just past midnight.

"Go back to sleep, Hermione," Draco murmured, shifting into a more comfortable position.

Glancing at him, sure her movements had awoken him, she was surprised to find Draco was still asleep. She rose as gently as she could and draped the blanket over him. "I will," she promised, intending to go to her room.

His eyes opened just long enough to stretch out on the couch before he closed them again. "No, stay with me," he mumbled.

His words confused her. Why was he asking her to stay? Was he even aware of the question he asked? Softly, she whispered his name, but all she got in response was a soft snore. Backing away quietly, she watched him several times as she made her way to her bedroom. With the door closed and locked, she slipped into bed, but sleep refused to come.

She tossed and turned for most of the night, unable to get comfortable and unable to fall asleep. It should have bothered her that Draco slept in the other room. After all, he was a former Death Eater. He was dangerous. But he had been kind to her, had held her close when they'd fallen asleep watching the second movie she'd rented. Hadn't commented on the mess she made when her foot knocked over the chip bowl. He merely bent down and cleaned it up.

Staring out her bedroom window, she realized the sun was beginning to rise. She groaned and pushed back the blankets. Still dressed from the night before, her feet weren't cold when they touched the hardwood floor and padded to the door. The click of the lock meant that she was one step closer to leaving the quiet sanctity of her room and returning to her childhood enemy who slept on the other side. Each step was hesitant and delicate, and she rounded the sofa to find him still stretched out. Taking a deep breath, she laid down beside him, careful not to fall or disturb him. Then she closed her eyes.

At some point as she slept, Draco had woken up long enough to share his blanket and wrap his arm around her. The clock above the television proclaimed that it was noon when she finally opened her eyes. Turning her head, she looked up at Draco as he watched her, and a warm blush flushed through her body.

"You stayed," he murmured, awed by that fact.

The color in her cheeks deepened. "Yeah, um, I was afraid you might get cold," she replied.

Draco nodded and loosened his grip on her. "I wasn't sure if I had actually said it out loud or if I had dreamt it," he told her, allowing her to pull away and rise to her feet.

"Do you regularly have to beg the girls in your dreams to sleep with you?" she quipped, feeling a slight return to their normal banter.

Sitting up, Draco shook his head. "I wasn't actually dreaming about you," he told her, frowning as he thought of a way to explain himself better. Hermione sat down on the coffee table and laid her hand on his arm. His left arm. The one that still bore the scars of the Dark Mark. Either she didn't realize it was that arm or it didn't bother her. Draco hoped it was the latter. "I was home. Um, well, back at the Manor. My mother was there, singing some lullaby I haven't heard since I was little. She looked so beautiful and happy, I just wanted her to stay with me. I kept asking her over and over again to stay, to not leave me, but she did."

"Draco, what happened to her?" she asked, taking his hand in hers.

He looked up at her briefly, sadness watering his eyes. "She died."


	4. Chapter 4

Going to the vet tonight with my kitty cat. He's been walking like a drunk the last couple of days, which concerns me because I never keep alcohol in the house. And he doesn't have opposable thumbs to open bottles. Fingers crossed my baby boy is okay!

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Chapter 4  
Those words had never passed his lips before. Others had died, people he was close to, but none that he loved as much as his mother. The death of Narcissa Malfoy had been his secret reason for leaving the wizarding world behind. As far as he knew, no one had made the connection, and he hoped it remained that way.

"Draco?"

Hermione's voice was a soft murmur, but it was enough to pull him from his thoughts. He looked at her and smiled, assuring her he was alright. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable," he finally said, letting go of her hand.

"You didn't," she promised. "I have nightmares too, ya know."

Draco nodded as if he had first hand experience with her dreams. "I should go," he said, getting to his feet. He moved quickly toward her front door, and it wasn't until he stopped with his hand on the knob that he realized she had followed him. "Thanks for last night. I had fun."

He pulled the door open, but Hermione's hand stayed his arm. "Are you alright?' she asked, worry lines forming between her eyebrows.

"Not falling in love with me, are you, Granger?" he asked, doing his best to slip back into his old, self-important routine.

Hermione pulled her hand back. "No, it's just concern for a friend," she replied.

He lingered in her doorway a moment longer to ask, "Is that what we are?" But before she could reply, he turned and entered his own flat.

She felt stupid. He hadn't really wanted her to sleep with him. He hadn't really wanted her to call him a friend. Draco Malfoy didn't have friends. He had lackeys and people he kept around for entertainment. There was no place in his life for a friend like her. "Just forget about it," she told herself as she locked the door and began to clean up.

An unexpected visitor awaited Draco's return, startling him when he entered his flat. "What are you doing here?" he demanded when he saw Astoria Greengrass reclined on his sofa.

"I could ask you the same question," she replied, arching an eyebrow at him. "Living like a muggle is beneath you, Draco."

"I happen to like it here," he said, making a pot of coffee.

Astoria rose from the couch, tossing her perfectly curled dark hair over her shoulder. "And what was the emergency that forced you to cancel our plans last night?" she inquired, joining him in the kitchen. "The emergency that must have been so dire you just got back now."

"Not that I owe you an explanation, but a friend needed me," he told her. "Besides, you were the one who said we needed to talk, and I have nothing to say. "If you want to play intermediary between my father and me, have at it. I'm not interested in anything he has to say though."

"But he wants to make things right between the two of you," Astoria insisted.

Draco rounded on her and backed her up until she hit the counter top. "There will be no setting things right between us," he informed her, snarling as he spoke. "He destroyed my family, he's the reason my mother is dead. What could he possibly say that could make any of that right?"

"He didn't kill her," she replied softly. Despite her best effort to remain calm as he towered angrily over her, it was her wide, fearful green eyes that betrayed her.

"Well, you're his mistress, so I guess I have to believe you," he said sarcastically.

Draco moved away, but Astoria stayed glued to the counter. "How did you know about that?" she asked, fear still thick in her words.

"Just because I don't live there anymore doesn't I've lost touch with people who do," he responded. "The two of you aren't very subtle from what I hear. Snogging in the middle of crowded restaurants will get you noticed, my dear. Especially with the way you dress, or should I say how little you wear when you get dressed."

"I don't have to stand here and listen to you insult me," she declared angrily. "I delivered your father's message. Maybe he's the one who's better off without you."

"Bye, then," he replied, turning back to the freshly brewed coffee. The door slammed shut with enough force to rattle the wall. Pouring himself a cup of coffee, he wondered how much of the argument Hermione could hear. Chances were if she was in her bedroom, she heard every word. He smiled at the thought of her running over, wand at the ready, and blasting down the door to ensure he was safe.

But that didn't happen. She stayed in her flat. She ignored the noise. Hermione Granger wasn't going to come to his rescue. And suddenly he felt bad. Pouring another mug of coffee, he eased out of his flat and knocked on her door. She opened it and smiled. "I can't seem to get rid of you, can I?" she asked, opening the door wider to grant him entrance.

He handed her a mug as he passed and settled down on the sofa. "This is one comfortable couch," he stated, propping his bare feet up on coffee table.

"That's why I bought it - comfort," she replied, sitting down beside him. "Why is your face all red?"

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "Would you believe me if I said the coffee's too hot?" he asked.

She took a tentative sip and swallowed. "No," she replied.

Sighing, he slouched down further. "My father's little minion paid me a visit this morning," he informed her.

"So, it's an angry red," she surmised. Draco nodded and drained the contents of his mug quickly. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He shrugged. "What's there to say?" he wondered. "He wants to talk. I don't. End of story."

"What do you think he wants to talk about?" she asked, fiddling with the handle of the ceramic coffee cup she held.

He eyed her, expecting her to already know the answer to her question. But she sat quietly by his side, one hand holding her coffee and the other resting supportively on his arm. "It's obvious isn't it?" he finally said. "He wants me to go back."

"Would you?"

Draco shook his head. "No," was his definitive answer.


	5. Chapter 5

In my author's note for the previous chapter, I mentioned that my kitty cat is sick. We haven't heard anything back from the vet about his blood work, but he's been in better spirits the last couple days! By the way, am I the only one who didn't know cats could get dementia? I thought him staring at the wall meant he was judging me for the paint colors.

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Chapter 5  
"Good," Ron Weasley stated as he shoveled his lunch into his mouth. "One less Death Eater to worry about."

Hermione scowled, both at his comment and his eating habits. Harry Potter sat beside her, eating and refusing to partake in the argument that was soon to erupt between the hotheaded former couple. "He's not a Death Eater," she stated defensively. "Harry, you heard him that night, and you've seen Snape's memories. He didn't choose to be a Death Eater. It was either join them or they'd kill his family."

"His father's a lunatic and his mother's dead. Fat load of good it did Malfoy joining them," Ron remarked.

"Because he knew they'd turn out that way," Hermione retorted with a roll of her eyes.

"Hermione's got a point," Harry interjected reluctantly. "Any of us would have done the same thing to keep our families safe. And Mione, Ron has a point too, although he doesn't quite have the tact to express it correctly."

She turned to him, her expression softening as she eyed her best friend. "What do you mean?" she wondered.

Removing his glasses, he cleaned them with the hem of his shirt. "It means that he's safer in the muggle world," Harry replied. "There are a lot of people who aren't big fans of reformed Death Eaters. Theodore Nott tried filing charges against someone who beat him to a bloody pulp in some back alley last week, but no one would take him seriously. Wasn't his situation similar to Malfoy's? Or Marcus Flint who lost his place on the Magpies because his father forced him to become one of them. Word is shops in the Alley are refusing services to known Death Eaters."

"Do you think he knew?" she asked. "Maybe that's why Draco left. Maybe he knew he'd never be treated the same way again."

Ron laughed darkly. "You mean your new best friend hasn't told you yet why he left?" he asked.

Ignoring the redhead, Harry kept his focus solely on the woman beside him. "I still don't know why he left, Mione," he said. "Maybe his reasons were the same as yours. But if he's happy there, maybe it's better you don't go digging into his reasons. Let him tell you when the time is right."

"Harry Potter is preaching patience?" Hermione remarked with a grin stretching her lips. "Now I've seen everything."

His lips ghosted across her cheek. "Eat your lunch, Hermione," he said in a stern, but good natured voice.

There was a weight that lifted from her shoulders every time she reentered the muggle world. She breathed easier, felt lighter, and it was a happy alternative to living in a world where so many she loved had lost their lives. The muggle world offered her a chance to return to normalcy and simplicity. Magic had little place in her life beyond quick fixes and security charms. It felt like home, plain and simple.

"Lost in your own head again, Granger?"

The soft drawl of Draco's voice snapped her out of her thoughts and she smiled at him. "Just happy," she replied, meeting him on the steps of their building.

"Thinking about me?" he wondered, inserting his key in the lock.

"Oh yeah, always," she replied sarcastically as she followed him inside.

Draco laughed. "I knew it. You've fallen for me," he said ecstatically. Beside him, Hermione scoffed, but didn't refute his claim. "Did you eat yet?"

She followed him to their floor. "I just got back from lunch with Harry and Ron," she informed him. The minute flash of jealousy in his eyes lasted only a few seconds, but she caught it.

He quickly schooled his expression as they reached her front door. "Did you talk about me?" he asked, the flirtatious nature from before now gone.

"You...came up," she replied, deciding honesty was her best bet. Unlocking her door, she let Draco enter first, then followed.

After filling a glass with water, he made his way to the couch and got comfortable. "Did you defend my honor?" he asked, half joking as he gazed up at her.

Taking a seat on the edge of the coffee table, Hermione wrapped her arms around herself and shrugged. "Sure, I guess," she mumbled.

Smiling, he leaned forward and put his water glass down beside her. His hand rested on her knee, and her eyes seemed glued to it, as he said, "Because that's what friends do, right? Stand up for one another."

Eyes still trained on his hand, Hermione unwound one arm and took hold of it. Draco held his breath. Would she push it away? Yell at him for touching her? Or would she hold it and never let go? She held it in both of hers, getting a feel for the mix of soft and rough skin on the large hand. Her thumb gently traced over a scar he'd gotten when a piece of broken glass cut him.

"Is that what we are?" she asked dubiously. "Are we friends?"

"I'd like to be," he admitted, maneuvering his hand so that he held hers. "The few friends I've had I've known since birth, so I don't really know how to do this. I mean, if being friends is something you want too. It's just...I love living here, but I don't know anyone. It's been a lonely few months until we started talking."

Hermione placed her free hand over the top of their joined hands. "Harry told me that Theodore Nott got pretty roughed up a couple of weeks ago," she said softly. "Is that why you don't go back?"

Draco shook his head. "My mother," he replied. "I saw her everywhere there. Here...I feel like I didn't fail her."

"I don't think you failed her, Draco," she murmured. "You lived, you survived. That's what she wanted. She saved Harry because he saved you, and that's all she cared about."

"And one of his minions killed her for it," Draco muttered. Questioning brown eyes looked back at him, but she couldn't seem to ask the one question that was on her mind. "I don't know who it was, but the Dark Mark was in the sky above our house after it happened."

Hermione squeezed his hand and whispered a sorrowful apology. Tears pooled in his eyes, and she thought of nothing but comforting him. She moved from the coffee table to the sofa, and wrapped her arms around him in a gentle embrace. Tears stained the sleeve of her shirt as he pressed his face into her arm. He curled into her, wrapping his arms around her torso as he pulled her closer.

"I'm sorry," he chanted as his tears continued to fall.

She pulled back. "What could you possibly have to be sorry about, Draco?" she wondered, exasperation rich in her voice. He turned away from her quickly and covered his face with his hands. Her arms returned, and he did nothing to push her away. "It's okay to cry. You have every right to be upset about what happened."

"I shouldn't have just...dumped all of this on you," he replied apologetically.

She held him tighter and pressed a kiss to his temple. "That's what friends are for, Draco," she told him.


	6. Chapter 6

So, the kitty cat drama continues. My boy's got cancer :( So, it'll be back to the vet soon to figure out what to do next.

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Chapter 6  
A warm weight pressed against his chest. Draco opened to his eyes to find Hermione asleep in his arms. His eyes burned from a night of crying, and he quickly shut them once more. It wasn't until Hermione began to stir that he roused himself to full consciousness. Once more they had fallen asleep on her sofa, and he feared she would tumble off if he didn't tighten his slackening hold on her.

"Morning," she murmured," pressing her forehead against his throat.

"You're hot," he commented.

Hermione laughed. "Um, you're not so bad yourself?" she joked.

His hand moved to her cheek, the back of his fingers touching her skin gently. "No, I mean I think you have a fever," he replied, inching them up until they reached her forehead. "Are you getting sick?"

"I'm fine," she murmured, closing her eyes once more. "Just sleepy."

"Why don't you go back to your own bed," he suggested. "I'll bring in some breakfast."

She nodded in agreement, but remained where she was. He chuckled and carefully maneuvered his way over her so he could get off the couch. The smells of a cooking breakfast and freshly brewed coffee did nothing to wake her, nor did Draco's loud words have any effect. It wasn't until he returned to the sofa and set two plates down on the coffee table that she stirred under his gentle touch. "Drink," he said, handing her a glass of orange juice.

Having complied with his order, she then dug into breakfast. As she ate, she seemed to move closer and closer to Draco until her head rested against his shoulder. "I'm cold," she said with a pout. Setting down his fork, he removed the throw blanket that hung over the back of the sofa and draped it around her. After setting his arm around her shoulders to hold her tightly to his side, he picked up his fork and continued eating. "I have to go to the Burrow today."

He knew he was supposed to say something kind, and so "That sounds fun," passed his lips.

She eyed him skeptically. "You don't mean that," she replied, smiling up at him. "And lately it hasn't been fun. It's Molly lecturing me about my place in the family, or Ginny begging me to get back together with Ron."

"Yeah, why aren't you and Weasley together?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

Her shrug jostled his shoulder. "He changed," she answered quietly. "I saw it after Dumbledore died. He seemed darker, less forgiving. Maybe it was the threat of the war or all that we'd seen up to that point, but he wasn't the same Ron I'd grown up with. After Fred died, he had this...I don't know, angry grief. He would throw things and punch walls, not caring if anyone got hurt. Like he was the only one who lost family."

"Your parents?" he guessed sadly.

"Apparently my memory charms work too well," she muttered. "I couldn't reverse it. No one could."

"Did he ever hurt you?" Draco asked, attempting to keep calm until he heard her answer. It wouldn't do to fly off the handle if her answer was no.

She shook her head. "It hurt to see him go through that," she replied. "But he never hurt me physically. We just...we're better off as friends."

They finished their meal in silence and she implored him to just leave the dishes in the sink as she got dressed for the day. Showered and dressed, she returned to the kitchen to find Draco elbow deep in soapy water. "I couldn't help myself," he replied with a sheepish grin.

"You're too good to me," she murmured, stretching up on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. "I should be home around seven."

"Movie tonight?" he asked as he turned off the tap.

She nodded and dipped her finger into the suds. "Your choice," she replied, wiping a dab of soap bubbles on his nose. "See you tonight."

It was getting later and later, and Draco's worry grew with each passing minute. Hermione should have been home two hours ago. Nary a sound could be heard from her flat as he left his. He knocked on her door and received no answer. He knocked harder. Still no answer. He tried the doorknob, and found the door locked. Surveying the hallway and finding himself alone, he unsheathed his wand and broke through her wards.

The sitting room was dark, and he felt along the wall for the light switch. The room was bathed in soft, yellow light, and illuminated the unconscious girl lying on the floor between the sofa and her bedroom. He ran to her, dropping to his knees as he cradled her in his arms. "Hermione?" he asked frantically as he checked her pulse. It thrummed beneath his fingertips, and he breathed a sigh of relief for that small miracle. "Hermione, wake up," he pleaded, tapping her cheek gently. Her skin was hot, hotter than it had been that morning when they awoke. He easily lifted her and set her down on her bed. After placing a cold rag on her forehead, he reached for the phone and dialed for an ambulance.

Then the waiting began.

Hermione awoke to the sound of beeping machines and harshly bright lights. Her throat was dry, her skin was clammy, and there was an intense pressure on her hand. Tilting her head, she was surprised to find Draco by her bedside, head resting on their joined hands as he slept. She whispered his name, her voice cracking as she said it.

His eyes blinked open quickly and he stared at her. "Oh thank God," he murmured, kissing her hand. "How do you feel? Are you okay? Thankfully you didn't hit your head when you passed out. Do you want water?"

She nodded, but refused to relinquish control of his hand. With his free hand, he reached for a small yellow cup and handed it to her, then he poured from a matching pitcher. She took small, slow sips and handed the cup back to him when she finished. "What happened?" she asked.

"Your fever spiked dangerously high," he told her. "Honestly, I was scared out of my wits when I found you. I was afraid you might not wake up."

"I didn't meant to frighten you," she whispered, squeezing his hand.

He leaned forward and smoothed her hair away from her eyes. "You have nothing to apologize for," he replied, pressing a kiss to her now clear forehead.

She shook her head as tears brimmed along her lower lids. "I shouldn't have gone back to my flat," she continued, ignoring his protests. "I should have gone to you. I knew I wasn't feeling well. Ginny offered to come back with me, but I told her not to. Because you and I had plans. I'm sorry I ruined your evening."

"Stop it," he said forcefully. "Stop apologizing. Just let me be happy that you're alright."

Silently, she nodded. It was the least she could do after what her illness had put him through. "Can we go home soon?" she asked quietly.

Draco nodded. "The doctor just wanted to keep you overnight for observation," he replied. "Once he's checked you out, you should be free to go."

There was a knock at the door and a head of gray hair poked in. "Sorry, I heard voices," the older man said, smiling kindly upon the patient. "Figured it would be a good time to stop in, check you out, hopefully release you. I'm sure your fiance would prefer a real bed tonight."

Hermione eyed the blond by her side, but he looked down in embarrassment. The doctor asked him to step out and completed his evaluation. With a smile on his face, he called Draco back in and gave her the good news. "You're free to go home, Miss Granger," Dr. Simpson informed them. "Now, a few days of rest, antibiotics, and plenty of fluids should help you recover fully. I'd like to see you back next week once the antibiotic has had its chance to run its course. Mr. Malfoy, if you'd like, I can prescribe something for you too, just as a preventative measure."

"Thank you, sir," Draco said, accepting the prescriptions. When the doctor left, he helped Hermione out of bed.

"So, we're getting married, huh?" she asked, changing back into the clothes she had arrived in. "How long was I out?"

The blush he wore deepened. "It was the only thing I could think of to stay with you," he replied. "The woman at the front desk made it quite clear that if I wasn't family I couldn't spend the night. I just...I didn't want to leave you. Maybe I should have said I was your cousin."

Wrapping her arms around him, Hermione smiled. "I'm not mad that you said it," she assured him. "Just a little warning next time would be greatly appreciated."

With a nod of his head, he agreed and led her from the room to go home. Hermione slept in the backseat of the cab Draco had called, head on his lap and perfectly content with his presence. His jacket acted as a blanket, and it wasn't until he had to wake her up that he noticed she held it to her nose. "Smells nice," she murmured when he asked if she had been using it as a tissue. After paying the fare, Draco escorted her inside and waited for her to open her front door. "Coming in?" she asked.

"Try and stop me," he replied. "I'm not leaving until I'm sure you're not gonna pass out on me again. Now, get in bed."

She acquiesced, but he was sure he heard her mumble that he was just as bad as Molly Weasley. He made a light breakfast - tea, toast, and some fresh fruit - and brought it into her room. Already, she had changed into her pajamas and was pulling back the blankets on her bed. Draco set the tray down on her nightstand, and when she was situated, he drew the blankets over her.

"Two plates," she observed.

"Well, it seemed pointless for me to stay out there and you to be in here," he replied matter-of-factly. "All that shouting would have disturbed the neighbors."

"It was just a fever, Draco. It really isn't necessary to play nurse to me."

He handed her a cup of tea and placed a plate on her lap. "Yeah, but I would have been over here today anyway, right?" he said, taking his own plate before lounging across the foot of her bed. "It just happens to be that today we're hanging out in your room. If it makes you uncomfortable, me being in here, I can go."

Hermione shook her head. "No, stay. It's nice to have a little company," she replied, putting her plate back on the table. "Would it be terribly rude of me to take a nap?"

Draco removed himself from the foot of the bed, plate in hand. "Not at all," he said. "I'll be in the other room if you need me."

"Wait." He stopped before he could reach the door and turned back around. "Could you stay in here?"

He smiled, and moved around to the other side of the bed. "Sure."


	7. Chapter 7

Can someone explain to me the purpose of having a meeting during lunch and then not serving lunch? I'm tiny, it wouldn't have taken much to make me happy. A bag of chips, a bottle of water - I'm that easy. At some point I started thinking about the Hunger Games, so I missed an entire slide. Thankfully, that meeting had nothing to do with my job.

* * *

Chapter 7  
Warm arms enveloped her as she woke. The room was dark but for the small night light near the door. Draco's soft snores and gentle exhalations tickled her neck. Rolling over, she watched him sleep. Even in the dark, she could make out the dark shadows beneath his closed eyes. Brows furrowed, lashes twitched, and his arm tightened around her as he fought off what she was sure had to be a nightmare. She stroked his cheek as he whimpered. "It's alright, Draco," she assured him, her voice calm as she spoke. "You're okay. Come back to me, Draco. Come back."

His eyes blinked open, sweeping around him as he took in the strange room. "You okay?" he asked in a choked voice as he loosened his grip on her.

"Did you have another bad dream?" she asked, ignoring his concern for her for the time being.

Letting go of her, he rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. "Well, it wasn't great," he muttered. "They'd been stopping lately, or they've been less intense. But this one..."

"What was it about?" she asked, caressing his arm as her mother had done when she was younger.

His eyes remained trained on the white ceiling above as he answered, "You."

The answer unnerved her and Hermione pulled away. "Me?" she asked.

"Yeah," he replied. "You were worse. It wasn't just a fever or the flu. It was worse and you never woke up, never got better."

Hermione moved back to his side and laid down beside him, head on his shoulder and arm around his waist. "I'm okay, Draco," she assured him. "And I'm not going anywhere."

"Promise?" he asked, his voice just above a whisper.

Sitting up, she took his face in her hands and directed it so his eyes would be on her. "Draco, I'm fine," she insisted. "It's just a little touch of the flu that I let get out of hand. It won't happen again."

Draco shifted into a reclined position, head still in her hands. "You'll take better care of yourself?" he asked, receiving a quick nod. "I'm serious, Hermione. Because you're my best friend, and I don't even want to think about-"

"Don't say it," she warned. Her hands slipped from his cheeks and she sat back. "Because if you don't say it, then you don't have to think about it. It's too soon to think about losing anyone else."

Tears clung to her lashes, and through the blur she could see his hand reach for her. Willingly, she went to him and he folded his arms around her. Her mind filled with the faces of those she'd lost - Dumbledore, Tonks and Remus, Fred, her parents. They were too hard to ignore when her carefully erected walls crumbled down with the use of one little word. Through her sobs, she could hear his tender voice promising her it would be alright. She wanted to believe him, to hold onto his words as if they were a gospel spoken by God himself.

"We're not gonna lose each other," he vowed, his voice soft but insistent. "You and I will eat breakfast and watch movies together until our teeth fall out and we go blind. Or until you get married and no longer have any use for me. Whichever comes first."

"That had better be a joke," she mumbled into his shirt.

"Which part?" he wondered, his hand skimming her back.

Hermione looked up and offered a hesitant smile. "The part about no longer having a use for you," she replied.

Shifting down with Hermione still in his arms, Draco settled his head back down on the pillow and smirked. "And what use will you have for me when you've decided to have a family of your own?" he wondered. "Gardener? Pool boy? Babysitter? Oh Merlin, don't let it be that last one."

She laughed, tears and sorrow seemingly forgotten. "You could be Uncle Draco," she replied.

Tickling her side, Draco elicited a gasping shriek from the witch beside him. "How about I just play chef," he suggested. "You've gone far too long without food, and you've got medication to take."

He climbed out of bed with Hermione hot on his heels. "You have to take it too," she shot back, following him to the kitchen.

When they were both in the same space, the same small space, Draco placed his hands on her shoulders, spun her around, and marched her over to the sofa. "Sit," he ordered. "Food will come to you. You and your sick, germy hands will go nowhere near the food."

"But if I can't go near the food, then how will I eat when it comes to me?" she inquired, giving him her best innocent look.

Draco rolled his eyes and groaned. "You're the genius, Granger. You'll figure it out," he replied, returning to the kitchen. He returned minutes later with two sandwiches, a bag of chips tucked under his arm, and a small cup of pills. He set them down, returned to the kitchen, and came back with two glasses of pumpkin juice. "Take them," he said as Hermione stared at the medication.

Hermione shook her head. "You first."

Sighing, he popped the pill the doctor had prescribed to him into his mouth and swallowed it with a healthy amount of juice. "Now you," he said, placing her medication in the palm of her hand. She eyed them wearily, but took them. "Good, now eat," Draco said, satisfied that she had complied.

They ate in silence, and when they finished, Draco gathered the dishes to wash. Hermione followed him to her kitchen and hopped up on the counter behind him. "I'm sorry if I got you sick too," she said just loud enough to be heard over the running tap. "I probably should have said that sooner," she added, blushing a bit.

"I feel fine," he assured her. "About that at least."

She poked his thigh with her bare foot. "What aren't you feeling fine about?" she wondered.

Shutting off the water, he dried his hands on his pants and turned around to face her. "I got a letter from my father yesterday," he told her. "I read it, balled it up, and came to find you. Then I forgot about it until I found it in my pocket while I was making breakfast."

"What did he have to say?" she asked, knowing prodding questions would be the only way to get any answers from him.

He pulled the note from his pocket and did his best to smooth out the wrinkles before handing it to her. "He wants to talk," he said before her eyes even had a chance to focus on the letters. Looking up, she asked if there was any part of him that wanted to do the same. "I wanted to be just like him when I was little. And then I had the chance to be a part of his world, to be like him, and I hated it. No, that's not even strong enough to convey how I felt about it. It made me sick and terrified and I begged for death daily. When the war ended and I had the opportunity to leave, I swore I'd never look back.

"He was so angry with my mother for lying to Vol...Voldemort. She was so scared of what might happen to her after that that she never opened to the door for anyone," he continued, unable to look her in the eye. "My father was home when she was killed. He let them in. He did nothing to stop the Death Eaters from killing my mother."

Hermione slid off the counter and wrapped her arms around his torso. "I'm sorry," she whispered, stroking his back. "I don't blame you for not wanting to speak to him. But if you change your mind and you need some moral support, I'd go with you."

Draco looked down at her and smiled. "Thank you," he murmured, lowering his lips to hers for their first kiss.


	8. Chapter 8

Happy Friday! It's also payday for me, and Starbucks ran out of grande cups so they gave me a venti for the grande price. Today's been a good day. Reviews would make it a great day!

* * *

Chapter 8  
"I'm sorry. Back up. Draco Malfoy _kissed_ you?" Ginny loudly gasped.

Hermione blushed and shushed her despite the pair being alone in her flat. "Yes, he did," she replied. "But it doesn't mean anything."

Blue eyes widened as the younger witch stared at her. "How does that not mean anything?" she asked exasperatedly. "He hates you, then he becomes your neighbor, then you two form some kind of friendship and he takes care of you when you get sick, and now he's kissing you. That's _not_ nothing, Hermione. That's something! Something big."

"We're friends, and we intend to stay friends," Hermione said with an air of finality. "He kissed me because he was upset."

"When Ron and Harry are upset, they throw things. They don't snog their friends," Ginny retorted.

Hermione offered her a sad smile. "Is Harry still in his 'I have to save the world, no time for a girlfriend' mode?" she asked.

Ginny shrugged her shoulders, intent on steering the conversation away from her love life. "How was it?" she asked. "Like are his lips soft or chapped? Is he a gentle kisser or does he really go for it?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and rose from the sofa when she heard a gentle knock on her door. "It was a two second kiss. Let it go," she replied. She opened the door and smiled, wondering if her visitor had heard them. "Hi, Draco."

Ginny leaned so far back over the sofa that her rear end near touched the top of the pillows. "Oh, hello, Draco," she said casually. "Care to join us? Hermione made a wonderful pineapple cake."

"Actually, Draco made that," Hermione replied. "Wanna come in?"

Draco eyed the fiery redhead briefly before turning his attention back to the witch in front of him. "I'm not sure that's safe," he murmured. "Reckon she's armed?"

Hermione shook her head. "She's not staying much longer," she told him softly. "How about I come by once she's gone?"

Draco nodded. "I ordered Chinese," he replied. "Come by soon and I might save you an egg roll." Hermione laughed, and he leaned down to press his lips to her cheek.

When the door closed, Ginny got to her feet and nearly pounced on her friend. "You're blushing!" she stated, half accusation, half exclamation. "He kissed you again and you're blushing."

"Are you leaving soon?" Hermione inquired, crossing her arms over her chest.

"In a hurry to get back to Malfoy?" the redhead retorted. Her friend said nothing, and so the younger witch rose to her feet. "I expect details. Oh, and if he hurts you..."

"I know, I know. You, Harry, Ron, Neville, George, Bill, that guy you gave a knut to in Diagon Alley that one time, and a whole slew of people I've never met will beat him into a bloody pulp, resurrect him, and do it all over again," Hermione finished for her. "Did I leave anyone out?"

Ginny smirked. "Yeah, my father," she replied as she stepped into the fireplace. "You know he loves you more than he does most of my brothers, and I don't blame him. You know he'd be the first in line to hurt him if anything bad happened to you."

Hermione knew it was true. Arthur Weasley had become a surrogate father to her once she entered the wizarding world and befriended his son. While his wife, Molly, was often overbearing, the Weasley patriarch was more content to let his children lead lives that made them happy. He was never one to interfere until his wife or his children's safety demanded it. And he embraced Harry and Hermione as welcome additions to his family, fascinated by their muggle upbringings. He was kind and loving, reminding her of her own father so much that she hadn't been able to face him alone since finding out her parents' memories were irreversible.

"I know," she replied, watching her friend disappear in the green flames. Alone now, Hermione changed into more comfortable attire, grabbed the rest of the cake, and went next door to Draco's flat. He greeted her with a half eaten egg roll and a smile. "You're giving me a _used_ egg roll?"

Draco shrugged. "You brought _used_ dessert," he countered, putting the cake on the kitchen counter.

"It's _leftover_ dessert, and I didn't slobber all over it."

He took the roll from her hand and finished it. "If you don't appreciate my offers of food, then I'm not making them anymore," he stated. "Now, sit down and eat."

Hermione complied, helping herself to a noodle dish she knew Draco particularly loved. When he sat down, she began flicking bits of scallion at him until he grew exasperated. "That's for eating my egg roll." Her smile was victorious.

Rolling his eyes, he went to the kitchen and returned with a white container. "I put yours in the fridge because you think they're better cold," he stated, handing the container to her. A chagrined blush colored her cheeks. "Now, don't you feel stupid?"

She gave a good natured shrug and replied, "It's not in my nature."

Dinner moved from the table to the couch when the evening news came on. "What do you think they showed during the war?" Draco asked, listening to tomorrow's weather forecast.

"There was a lot of 'strange occurrences' and 'unexplainable weather patterns'," she replied. "My parents almost refused to let me return for sixth year. Maybe it would have been better if I hadn't."

"Because of Dumbledore?" he guessed, sadness and guilt rich in his voice.

It seemed she could sense his feeling of despair because she replied with a joke. "No, because Harry was better than me in Potions that year."

Setting aside his carton, he held her hand and sighed. "I hated being there that year knowing what I had to do," he told her. "There was never that moment of pride that he chose me. I wanted out from the beginning."

Hermione, too, put down her food. "Did I ever tell you why I left?" she asked. Looking her in the eye, he shook his head. "You left the wizarding world because of your parents, and so did I. I adored my mother and father, and being here...it's like being near them again. Like I have my family back."

"What about the Weasleys?"

She shrugged. "They're the kind of family you enjoy seeing on holidays, and if you went a whole year without seeing them, you'd be okay with it," she replied. He laughed softly, but it quickly died on his lips when she asked, "What are we, Draco?"

He tightened his hold on her hand. "We're friends and the closest thing either one of us has to family here," he replied, delicately choosing his words. "And we kissed once, and I don't know if that changed things between us."

"Did you want it to?" she murmured, not realizing that they had moved closer to each other until their shoulders touched.

Draco shrugged, upsetting her shoulder in the process. "I like the way we are now," he said. "I'd hate for anything to come between us. I wasn't kidding when I said that you're the only family I have here."

She moved closer until mere inches separated their faces. "I don't think a few kisses would ruin things between us," she decided as she stroked his cheek.

Closing the distance between them, Draco kissed her. "Didn't I tell you not to fall in love with me?" he whispered against her lips.

"Maybe I should have given you the same warning."


	9. Chapter 9

Usually we get a half day before major holidays, but this year that didn't happen. I could be home right now, posting this chapter from the comfort of my bed because that's the only room in the house where I have an internet connection.

Also, I'd like some good book recommendations. I spent the weekend reading Divergent and Insurgent, and I need something to fill my reading time.

* * *

Chapter 9  
When Hermione awoke in Draco's bed, she was alone. The room was dark, curtains drawn, and the alarm clock on his bedside table informed her that it was far too early to be awake. Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she slipped out of his bed and left his room. Light illuminated the small table near the kitchen where Draco sat hunched over the mahogany table top.

"Can't sleep?" she asked as she approached the table.

He quickly gathered together a number of papers, startled by her sudden presence. "Um...yeah," he replied too quickly.

Hermione joined him at the table and eyed him carefully, hoping he would tell her what had him awake at a little after three in the morning. She said nothing, and neither did he. But one paper remained on the table, one that in his haste he had forgotten to hide from her. A bank logo was stamped in the upper left hand corner beside its name, and below it she could see that it was a bank statement addressed to him. "Draco?" she asked cautiously.

"My mother's money...she left it to me when she died," he explained, setting the papers back on the table. "You'd be surprised how awful the conversion rates are from wizard to muggle money."

"Believe me, I know," she mumbled. Reaching not for the papers, but his hand, she asked, "What's troubling you?"

Draco sighed wearily and ran his free hand through his mussed hair. "I think I need to get a job," he told her. "How do I even do that?"

"Like a wizarding job or a regular job?" she asked.

He snatched his hand away. "Are you insinuating that I should go back?" he demanded. "I'm close to broke so I should crawl back to Daddy and have him support me now?"

His rage was sudden, but not fleeting. "That's _not_ what I was suggesting," she shot back, willing to go toe-to-toe in the early hours of the day. "All I did was ask a question, Draco. There's no need to bite my head off."

Draco seemed to deflate and sat down on the sofa, his head buried in his hands. "I'm sorry," he whispered tiredly. Pulling his hands away from his face he looked up at her and uttered his apology louder. "You're right. I shouldn't have snapped at you. This has just been on my mind for days now, and that's no excuse for getting mad at you."

She joined him on the sofa and wound her arm through his. "I've been thinking about moving out," she told him. She could feel him pull away, but she held tighter. "My parents had a beautiful house in Surrey. It had a little porch out front where I would sit and read until the sun went down. The backyard was large and we had a tree that my father hung a tire swing from. I broke my arm falling out of that tree when I was five. Anyhow, I was thinking about moving back there. Rent's been eating up most of my savings, and the mortgage was paid off a long time ago."

"So, you're just gonna leave?" he asked, hurt that she had made such a big decision.

Rolling her eyes, she bumped her shoulder against his. "It has two bedrooms," she informed him, hoping subtlety would not be lost on him.

His brows furrowed for only a second as he processed her statement, then they rose in surprise. "Are you asking me to come live with you?" he asked, desperate for the clarification.

"Only if you want to," she replied. "But I'm kind of hoping you'll say yes. It's purely selfish, you understand. I don't want to live there alone and I don't want to be far away from you."

"What about Potter and Weasley? What will they think?" he wondered as he considered her offer.

"Well, Ron's still thoroughly confused by my decision to live here in the first place, and Harry understands our friendship," she replied. "I was talking to him yesterday about going back to my old house, and the first thing he asked me was 'What about Draco?'"

The hint of a smirk quirked up the left side of his mouth. "And what was your reply?" he inquired.

A delicate blush warmed her cheeks. "I told him I would ask you to move in with me but I'd understand if you said no," she told him. "I'm trying not to get my hopes up that you'll say yes."

"What makes you think I'd say no?" he wondered.

Hermione shrugged. "I thought you might like living alone. Or maybe you wouldn't like living with me."

He laughed sympathetically and held her closer. "Do you realize that since you got sick you've either stayed here or I've stayed with you?" he pointed out. "Well, there was that one night the Weasley girl slept over, so we had to stay in our own places. I recall tossing and turning most of that night because you weren't next to me."

She too recalled that night. Sleep never came, and more than once, she considered sneaking into his flat. But she hadn't because Ginny would know. Then Harry and Ron would know. And if it ever got back to Mrs. Weasley that she was sleeping with a Malfoy, no matter how innocent the situation, there would be hell to pay. "I didn't sleep either," she told him. "I think I can only sleep when you're here. I feel safer."

His free hand stroked her cheek. "I'll never do anything to hurt you. I swear," he vowed.

Lips pressed to his, she murmured, "I know."

Draco kissed her, their usual chaste and tender kiss turning into something more passionate, more fiery. It took all he had to pull away from her hungry lips and calm his frayed nerves. Her lips, swollen and red, turned down in a pout that made him laugh. "When do you intend to move?" he asked her, unsure when she had maneuvered herself onto his lap. Perhaps _he_ had moved her there.

"I thought after the holidays," she told him. "It'll be the end of the month, so we'll get our money's worth, rent-wise. And I don't know what you have planned for Christmas, but I'll be with the Weasleys since, as Molly puts it, where else am I gonna go?"

"You could stay here with me," he offered with a shrug of his shoulders. "My father wrote again, and asked if I'd come home."

"Will you go?" she asked, fingering the hair at the back of his neck while her other thumb stroked his jaw.

The smirk was back. "Spend Christmas, the happiest holiday in the world, with Lucius and his mistress? I don't think so."

Her lips moved along the other side of his jaw. "Then come with me," she suggested, hoping her kisses would be enough of a distraction to make him say yes.

"Spend Christmas with the Weasleys, a family that hates me? I don't think so."

Her lips moved closer to his. "Please?" she murmured, kissing a trail from his jaw to his chin. Draco shook his head. "For me?" she asked, switching to the other side.

"Gonna have to try harder than that, Granger," he teased. He cupped her face in his hands and drew her lips back to his own.

She pulled back and looked him in the eye. "Three days, Draco," she said softly. "I'll be there for three days. Without you. I don't want to be there for three days without you."

Sighing, he kissed her again. "Fine, I'll go," he relented.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10  
"There's a flaw in your plan," Draco stated as they approached the misshapen home of the Weasley family.

Hermione held tightly to his hand, sure that the closer they got to the front door the more likely it was that he'd run. "What's that?" she wondered.

"Well, you've become accustomed to sharing my bed," he said. "There's no way she'll let us do that under her roof."

She flashed him a conspiratorial smile. "You thought I didn't have a way around that?" she asked incredulously. "You honestly doubt my ability to think ahead? Ginny and I share a room, you'll be in the twins' room by yourself since George isn't coming. Only one floor separates our rooms, and they're nowhere near Molly's room. It'll be easy to sneak into your room once everyone's gone to sleep."

Draco squeezed her hand and chuckled. "You, Granger, could have been a Slytherin," he remarked. She rewarded him with a proud smile and opened the front door to allow them entrance. "You sure this is a good idea?" he muttered so only she could hear.

"You'll be fine," she assured him, letting go of his hand to greet the loud and large family.

He hung back, letting Hermione make the rounds and hoping to go by unnoticed. He'd thought himself successful until a hand clamped down on his shoulder. Turning, he came face to face with Harry Potter. "I'm not gonna hurt her," he said defensively.

"I know," Harry replied with a smile. "In fact, if I were you, I'd be concerned with her doing the hurting. She does have a history of hitting you."

Draco chuckled and turned an affectionate eye on Hermione. "Oh, she still hits," he said. "But at least it's playful now. Back then...she definitely intended to hurt me."

Harry nodded in agreement, but soon adopted a more somber expression. "How's she doing?" he asked. "She sugarcoats it all when she talks to me, and I know you're around her a lot more often than I can be. So, tell me - is she okay?"

"She's happy," he replied. "Most of the time."

"And when she's not?" Harry wondered, brows furrowed.

Draco shrugged. "She cries or cleans her flat, or my flat when she's done with hers. She rearranged my living room furniture by hand last week. I finally got her to stop when she asked me if I'd help her move her bed."

"Yeah, she does that when she's upset," Harry confirmed. "Grimmauld Place was a mess when she was done with it. Who puts a couch right near the entrance of a room?"

The two men shared a laugh, one that didn't go unnoticed by a certain brunette. "Guess the two of them are friends now too," Ron groused, handing her a cup of pumpkin juice.

Hermione turned her attention away from Draco and Harry and frowned. "Would that be so bad?" she wondered.

"He's the enemy, Mione," Ron replied louder than necessary. "Isn't it bad enough he's tricked you into being his friend? Now he's going after Harry. What's next? Mum's trying to adopt him too?"

She rolled her eyes and handed him back the drink. "He's changed, Ron," she said. "And he's trying to be a better person. I actually think he's succeeded. Maybe if you gave him a chance, you'd see that too."

Walking away, she joined Draco and Harry by the front door. "Mione, why does Malfoy keep telling me that the two of you aren't a couple?" Harry inquired, arching an eyebrow as he stared at the arm that wound around his best friend's waist.

Hermione shrugged. "Because we aren't," she answered simply.

Harry eyed the pair curiously before coming to a decision. "I get it," he said. "It's a secret, right? You don't want Molly to know. Can't say I blame you. She's still got her heart set on the two of us marrying into the family. But I'll keep your secret. I swear."

"Harry, there's no secret relationship," Hermione replied with a laugh. "We're friends. That's it. I was going to show Draco to his room. Would you care to join us?"

A bemused grin crossed Harry's face before he shook his head. "No, no. I'd hate to intrude on your alone time."

"The Boy Who Lived might not hold onto that title for very long," she groused as she led Draco to the third floor.

Once the door closed, he dropped his bag on the bed and pulled her into his arms. "Just friends, eh?" he asked as he kissed her.

Hermione giggled against his lips, and was so caught up in his kiss that she didn't notice him backing her up toward a bed. "Wait," she said, pulling away. "Not here."

"Not here as in this house or just this particular spot?" he asked.

"That's Fred's bed," she said quietly. Slipping out of his arms, she moved to the other bed and sat down. "He was my first kiss, ya know. Between fourth and fifth year, we were staying at Grimmauld Place. It was this big, creepy, dark house, and I couldn't sleep when I was there. I guess maybe Fred couldn't either because we'd always meet up downstairs after everyone else had gone to bed. It only happened once, one night during a thunderstorm. I've never told anyone else about it."

Draco sat down beside her and took her hand. No words were exchanged as she cried silently, her head resting on his shoulder. Nothing needed to be said, and Draco knew that. With his free hand, he gently wiped away her tears with the pads of his fingers. When she lifted her head, he asked, "You okay?"

"Yeah, sorry about that," she whispered.

He gave her hand a squeeze and brought it to his lips. "No apologies," he told her. "Would it be easier if I came to your room tonight? Potter and the Weaslette are dating, right? Maybe she could be persuaded to spend the night with him. Or maybe she won't mind me being in the room with you."

"They're not together," she replied. "Ginny, and you have to start calling her Ginny, wants to get back together, but Harry's not ready yet. But yeah, she should be okay with it."

His lips met hers in a gentle kiss. "Okay, I'll talk to her after dinner," he promised.


	11. Chapter 11

I've written up to chapter 20, so I figured I'd better get with the posting. I've had a quiet few days at work, so most of it was spent writing.

By the way, has anyone read the Matched trilogy? I started reading it, and nothing is happening. Just want to make sure at some point something actually happens.

* * *

Chapter 11  
Draco awoke on Christmas morning to an empty bed. Across from him, Ginny mumbled in her sleep about Quidditch. Grinning, he threw back the blankets and quietly left in search of Hermione. The house was quiet until he reached the kitchen. Molly Weasley was already busy preparing breakfast for a small army - eggs, pancakes, bacon, sausage, and scones. She glanced at him, her emotions unreadable, before she turned back to the stove.

"Happy Christmas," he greeted her, unsure what else to say. She nodded her head and continued to whisk the eggs. "Um, is Hermione down here?"

"Other room," she replied.

He muttered a quick thanks and left the kitchen quickly. Hermione sat near the Christmas tree with a book in hand. The colorful lights reflected around her, casting soft glows upon her. "She hates me," he stated, only to receive a halting hand in response.

After finishing and marking her page, she shut the book and looked up. "What was that?" she asked.

"Mrs. Weasley," he replied, sitting down on the arm of the chair. "She hates me."

"You did insult her family on more than a few occasions," she pointed out. "Plus, you're here with me, and that throws a wrench in her plans to reunite Ron and me."

"Do you want to get back together with him?" he wondered, picking up the book in her lap.

Hermione took the book from his hands and set it aside. "No," she replied honestly. "He doesn't understand my choice to live in the muggle world, and I have no intentions of coming back here permanently. I like my life exactly as it is right now."

She moved just enough for him to sit beside her with her legs thrown over his lap. "You mean you like kissing me and sharing a bed with me," he teased, pressing a kiss to her lips.

Hermione turned her face away so his next kiss met her cheek. "Do you think we should leave early?" she asked. "Molly's hardly said a word to me since we got here, and I know she's done nothing to make you feel welcome. Think they'd notice if we left right now?"

Draco stared off into the kitchen. "Potter might," he replied. "Honestly, he's not so bad. We had a nice chat last night after you went to bed. Even started making plans to take in some cricket when the season begins."

She laughed. "It's a true Christmas miracle," she proclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck. "Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter - almost friends."

"Is that what he's been telling you?" Harry joked, intruding on their alone time. Hermione moved off of Draco's lap to greet her friend. "Sleep okay?"

"Fine," she replied quickly. "So, listen, we were thinking-"

"I don't blame you," Harry interrupted as he ran his fingers through unruly, dark hair. "She hasn't been great to me either. I figured it'd be best to leave after breakfast. I hear the two of you have a lot of packing to do."

Hermione turned and narrowed her eyes on the nonchalant blond. "You told him?" she hissed.

Draco shrugged while Harry laughed. "Hey, I'm not gonna judge," he stated, his green eyes alight with mirth. "Just...make sure I get an invitation to the wedding."

He ran off to the kitchen, leaving the pair behind. "I really may kill him," she muttered.

"No, you won't," Draco replied, rising from the chair. "He's still your best friend at the end of the day."

Her arms wound around his waist. "And here I thought you were gunning for that position," she murmured.

He shrugged and kissed her softly. "As long as he doesn't get to do that, I'm fine with him still being your best friend," he replied. A small laugh built in the back of her throat as he kissed her again. "You and Potter never..."

"No," she assured him, her face screwed up in disgust. "He's been like a brother to me. I've never even thought of kissing him."

He led her out of view as the sound of footsteps on the stairs grew louder. "And me?" he wondered.

Hermione smiled and nipped his bottom lip. "Every minute of the day since the first time you kissed me," she confessed.

Looking over the top of her head, he whispered, "Come outside with me. I feel like we're being watched."

She nodded and led him by the hand until they reached the edge of the Weasleys' property. When she stopped walking, he gathered her in his arms, pressed his lips to hers, and Apparated them away. Her eyes opened wide, shocked first that he had performed magic and then by their location.

He had taken her to her parents' house, her childhood home. They had slowly begun to move their belongings in, things they didn't need on a daily basis. But now the house was clean and furnished, decorated with little mementos they had collected over the years. But the mantle remained the same. Framed photographs lined the stone shelf above the fireplace, and each contained a hole where Hermione had one been.

"I didn't know what to do with them," he murmured, wrapping his arms around her waist as she stared at them.

She turned in his arms. "Do you think there's a spell that can fix them?" she asked. "I want the pictures to be whole again."

"I'll look into it," he promised. Then, he took her hand and led her to the stairs. "Want the tour? I didn't do much to the bedrooms. Figured I'd let you handle that."

Nodding, she allowed him to lead her to the second floor. They passed the bathroom, which he had stocked with her favorite soaps and shampoos. Next to the bathroom was the master bedroom. He pushed the door open to reveal the room. He hadn't lied when he said he barely touched the bedrooms. It was exactly as her parents had left it, but now the dust was gone and the windows were clean.

Hermione let go of his hand and moved to the bed, taking a seat at the foot. After taking in the room, she looked up at him. "I don't think I can sleep in here," she decided, her voice small as she fought to restrain tears.

Putting an arm around her shoulders, Draco led her across the hall to her former bedroom. "I thought as much," he replied sympathetically. The room was much the same as it had been when she left home, but the twin bed was gone. "I figured we could move your bed in here."

She nodded. "Yeah, we'll do that," she agreed. "And you'll-"

Draco glanced down at the finger that pointed to her room, and gleaned her meaning. "If you want me to," he replied.

Turning, she wound her arms around his waist and kissed his cheek. "Thank you for doing this," she said, running her thumb along his jaw.

"I couldn't think of what to get you for Christmas," he admitted, his cheeks burning beneath her fingertips.

"It's perfect."


	12. Chapter 12

So, my cat passed away last night. He was 12 and sweet and cuddly. My mom brought him home when he was 8 weeks old, and he was the best Christmas present ever. He had a thing for my bathmat (because he obviously appreciated my love of all things pink) so I've been crying every time I go in there. I'm either gonna have to move or start using the bathroom at the gas station. I'm only half kidding about that...I think.

* * *

Chapter 12  
Hermione sat in the middle of her now empty living room. The movers had already been by to collect her furniture that would go to the house. The local church had collected donations the day before. Draco had taken the last of her boxes when he left with the movers. She was alone in an empty space that was no longer hers. She felt...content, she decided. Moving on felt good. Moving on felt right.

She didn't know how long she sat there - twenty minutes, half an hour, half the day - when Draco returned to bring her back to the house. Their house. A smile lit her face when he sat down beside her. He was sweaty and tired, but happy to sit. Hermione leaned against him despite his warnings. "You smell," she stated.

"Figured I'd shower when we get home," he replied. "All the furniture is in place, and we've got a few boxes that need unpacking. What do we do about your...the other room?"

"Close the door and never open it again," she suggested, only half joking.

Draco sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "This might be the entirely wrong time to ask this, but are you sure moving into your parents' house is a good idea?"

"Would you rather get a job?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.

Shaking his head, he got to his feet and looked down at her. "Are you doing this, moving there, for me or for you?" he asked. "Because, and I don't mean to sound selfish, but you could have lived there this whole time. Then I mention my money trouble, and you decide you're moving."

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe I couldn't stand the thought of being there alone?" she retorted, standing as well. He still towered over her, but it didn't faze her. She had the meaner right hook. "Or that I hadn't considered living there until I had money problems? This move isn't about you, Draco. Or maybe it is, in some way. I don't know."

He pulled her to him, wrapping her in a tight embrace. "I'm sorry," he whispered, kissing the top of her head. "Let's just be together. You and me. I don't care where we live as long as I don't lose you."

"You won't," she promised as she kissed him. "Can I ask you something?" Draco nodded and moved his lips to her neck. "Do you love me?"

He pulled back to reveal furrowed brows and confused gray eyes. "Of course I do," he replied. "You know I do."

Hermione shook her head to clear her addled mind. "No, I mean do you love me?"

Smiling, he cupped her face in his hands and whispered, "Yes."

"Reckon we should be worried about Mione being with Malfoy all the time?" Ron asked as he and Harry strolled the streets of Diagon Alley.

His raven haired friend shook his head. "No, I don't think we need to worry," he replied. "I talked to Malfoy, and he really cares about her. He's not gonna hurt her."

Ron's face reddened angrily. "And if he does?" he demanded, stopping in his tracks to glare at Harry. "Say he hurts her. What do we do then? How are you gonna feel knowing you didn't try to put a stop to this...this...whatever it is that's going on between them?"

"They're friends," Harry said with a shrug. "Would you rather she be alone?"

"I'd rather she stay away from Death Eaters," Ron grumbled. "She can have all the friends she wants, just not him."

They entered the slowly rebuilding Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, the shop owned by Ron's brothers and now run by the surviving twin. "I think you're jealous," Harry stated with a proud smile on his face. They approached the checkout counter where George stood ringing up a customer. He relayed their conversation to the twin. "What do you think?"

George bagged the item and handed the customer his receipt. "I think the war changed a lot of people," he said, staring pointedly at his younger brother. "And I think Hermione's a better judge of character than anyone else we know. If she trusts Malfoy, then I don't see the problem."

Ron scowled, a retort ready on his lips. "No," George cut in before his younger brother could speak. "Yeah, Malfoy was a complete git to her in school, but he's not anymore. I saw them together after Christmas, and they're happy together. You, on the other hand, were a git to her in school, and you haven't changed. Want to use Fred's death as an excuse to be a belligerent, good for nothing arse? Go ahead, but I'm not dealing with it. And apparently she isn't either."

The two younger men stood with open mouths as the redheaded shop proprietor left. "I don't think I've ever seen George get angry," Harry said, awed by the new side of his friend. "Really put you in your place, eh, mate?"

Ron grumbled and walked away. With him out of sight, Harry entered the back room, cordoned off by a velvet, magenta curtain. George sat on a low stool he'd pulled up to his work table and stared at Harry without really seeing him. "Fred was working on new and improved Daydream Charms before he..."

Harry perused the shelves, fingering ingredient bottles and discarded products that didn't sell. "I tried one for the first time after the war," Harry said. "I saw my parents again, thanked them for everything. Your products really are brilliant."

"Was I out of line?" George wondered when Harry turned his attention back to him.

"Not at all," Harry assured him.

"I'm glad she found someone else," the redhead said, fiddling with a pair of tweezers. "She didn't deserve to deal with the brunt of his anger all the time. It's good she got out when she did. Sometimes I wish I had the guts to leave like Malfoy did."

Harry leaned back against the shelf and sighed. "Moving to the muggle world doesn't erase what's happened," he replied. "You still live with the deaths and the loss and the nightmares. You just do it somewhere else."

Draco twitched and stirred, shaking the bed and waking Hermione. He whimpered, and when she looked at him, she saw tears on his cheeks. "No," he muttered. "No, leave her alone. Don't hurt her. I'll do anything."

She touched his shoulder. "Come back, Draco," she murmured, pressing a kiss to his bare shoulder.

He turned over, his eyes still closed, but he managed to grasp her wrists tightly as he laid on top of her. "Please, Draco," she pleaded. "Come back to me." She ignored the pain in her wrists as she continued her mantra, willing him to awaken.

"No. You killed her!" he shouted, squeezing Hermione's wrists until she was sure they were bruised.

She shook her head, struggling to keep the tears from her eyes. "Draco, please wake up," she said. "Please. I love you. Please wake up."

And his eyes opened.


	13. Chapter 13

I'm back to work today, and I've only cried once. Also found out yesterday that I have to have surgery, so I'm trying to set that up during my staycation. Because nothing says relaxing day off quite like recovering from surgery.

* * *

Chapter 13  
Avoidance was typically Draco's go-to action in most unpleasant situations. But avoiding Hermione was too difficult when they shared the same space. Bruises, the size and shape of his fingers, littered her wrists, and a lump formed in his throat when he saw them. Setting aside the paper and her coffee cup, she looked up at him with worried eyes and rose from her seat at the dining room table.

"What was it about?" she asked, hugging him tightly.

"Ironically, you," he replied, wincing when she touched him. Hermione pulled away and led him by the hand to the living room. He took a seat in the nearest armchair and pulled her onto his lap. "Lucius had you," he continued, closing his eyes as he relived the scene. "He was casting spells I've never heard of before, and you were screaming and begging. All I could do was watch. Then he turned to me and said 'I'm tired of hearing the mudblood.'"

She knew what came next - the dream version of Lucius killed her. "I'm still here, sweetheart," she replied with reassuring kisses. "I'm okay."

He took hold of her hands and brought them up to eye level. "_This_ is not okay," he stated angrily, more at himself for what he'd done than at her.

"You didn't know what you were doing," she insisted.

Draco snorted. "Yeah, that's the same thing Pansy would say after her father hit her," he muttered. "'He'd been drinking' or 'He didn't know I was behind him when he slammed the front door and it just hit me in the face.' I won't listen to you be one of those women who defends the jerk who hurts you."

"And don't you think I would fight back if you'd hurt me while conscious?" she countered, taking his face in her hands. "You love me, Draco, as much as I love you. I trust that you would never harm me in any way. Now you just have to believe that too."

Gingerly, his thumb traced the bruises on her wrist. "I _am_ sorry," he murmured as he shifted his head to kiss her marred skin. "My mum used to do that when I'd get hurt. She'd kiss it, like it had healing powers, and then she'd tap her wand to heal it when she thought I wasn't looking. Used to tell me it was the kiss that cured me."

Hermione shrugged. "Never know. Your kisses could be magic," she replied with a smile. One that grew as he kissed her for the first time that morning.

"You're gonna heal them when you take a shower, aren't you," he guessed.

She slipped her hand through the neck hole of his shirt and lightly drew her fingernails down his back. "So what if I am?" she wondered. "Unless you'd rather we tell people I got them because you tie me to the bed when we...ya know."

Draco laughed. "You can't even say it, can you?" he replied. "Come on, say it with me - shag."

She blushed to the roots of her hair as she mumbled the word under her breath. "I, um, Ron and I never," she stuttered.

"I'm not pressuring you to do it," he replied softly. "Don't feel like you have to do anything you aren't ready for just because you think it's something I want."

"Is it?" she asked.

"I'm a guy," he said, laughing. "It's all we think about. Well, that and food. My point is I don't want it if you don't. I want to be with you in any way I can, but that doesn't have to be sex."

She kissed his cheek, her lips just inches from his ear. "I really like you," she told him before climbing off of his lap.

"Yesterday you loved me," he called after her as she climbed the stairs.

"Still do today," she yelled back.

A few minutes later, he heard the shower run and then a knock on the front door. Pushing himself out of the chair, he padded across the living room to find Harry Potter on the other side. "Come on in," Draco said with a beckoning hand. "She's in the shower, but she doesn't take long."

Harry grinned. "I'm not sure I'm okay with you knowing my best friend's bathing habits so intimately," he retorted as he handed over a casserole dish of chocolate chip cookies. "I didn't make them, Ginny did. She had to go back to school though, so I volunteered to deliver them."

"Oh, so that's what you do with the tube of cookie dough," Draco mused. "We usually just eat it raw."

"Yeah, Mione's not much in the kitchen," he agreed. "I hear you do most of the cooking."

The blond nodded in agreement and took the dish to the kitchen. He grabbed a small plate from the cabinet and lined it with cookies. "Nothing great," he replied. "Simple things - pasta, chicken, fish. I bake sometimes though. She's got a bit of a sweet tooth."

"Years of repression at the hands of dentist parents," Harry added, wincing at the thought.

"Quit talking about me," Hermione said with a glower as she greeted Harry with a hug. "Ooh, cookies! See, Draco, this is what happens when you actually bake the cookie dough rather than just eat it from the tube."

The two men laughed and adjourned to the living room with the dessert. "Is it wrong to eat cookies for breakfast?" Draco wondered as he took a seat beside Hermione. "I mean, that's something four year-olds want to do."

"Yes," Hermione agreed, snatching a cookie off the plate, "but nineteen year-olds can actually get away with it."

Laughing, Draco took the cookie from her hand and ate half of it before giving it back. "Pretty good," he commented. "Secret Weasley family recipe?"

"Nah, I reckon if Ginny knew how to make them, then it's not a secret," Harry replied. "Molly's going to the grave with her recipes."

Hermione finished off the half a cookie Draco left her with and brushed the crumbs from her hands. "So," she said, adopting a more serious tone, "did you come by just to feed us, or was there something else?"

Clearing his throat, Harry sat up straighter in his seat. "There was an article in the _Prophet_ about the disappearing act the two of you pulled after the war," he explained, pulling a copy from his back pocket. "Well, I guess more an update. Ron's quoted."

"Ran off and got married?" Hermione exclaimed as she read the article. "'And we hear the world will soon welcome another Malfoy?' This is absolute rubbish! Why would Ron tell them any of this?"

Sighing, Harry removed his glasses and cleaned the lens with his shirt sleeve. "I dunno, Mione," he replied. "You know how he gets jealous and feels like he's being replaced. I guess he thinks you've replaced him with Draco."

"Do you feel that way too?" she wondered, seeking Draco's hand without taking her eyes off of Harry.

He smiled an encouraging smile. "I figured out a long time ago that there's room in your heart for more than one person," he replied. "And if Draco gets a slightly bigger piece of it, then that's okay too. As long as you're happy, Mione."

She shot him a grateful smile before looking at Draco. "I am happy."


	14. Chapter 14

I have nothing witty to say today, but I do have a question for people who've lost their pets. How long did you wait before getting another? I have a cat who's grown up having another cat around, and now he's by himself. I just want him to have a buddy again.

* * *

Chapter 14  
Draco was not happy.

Owls had appeared at their windows, doors, and sat on the power lines outside their house for a week. They avoided the letters successfully, except for one. Draco had recognized the owl, the parchment, the fine script, and black ink. Hands shook as he opened it, reading his father's scathing words. When he finished, he tossed it into the fire before Hermione had a chance to find out about it.

They'd gone out for a walk as fresh snow fell, and returned to their house with red cheeks and laughs that died on their lips when they approached the front door. The _open_ front door. Hermione gripped his arm, feeling his wand beneath the sleeve, and relaxed minutely. Draco entered first, slipping his wand into his hand. "The Ministry won't be happy if you attack muggles," she whispered nervously.

"It isn't Muggles," he muttered, spotting his father seated at their dining room table. Hermione peered around him and gasped. "Out."

Lucius Malfoy smirked and rose from his seat before walking toward the pair slowly. "Is that how you greet your father after almost a year's absence?" he wondered, tsk-ing at his son. "I'd of thought your manners were better than that. Although, taking up with muggles and mudbloods could be to blame."

"Out," Draco said again through clenched teeth.

His anger had little effect on the older man who made himself comfortable on the sofa. "Really, Draco, there's no need for a wand," he spoke haughtily, raising an eyebrow. "I merely came to offer my condolences."

"Condolences?" Hermione repeated, wondering if Lucius had read the same article in _The Daily Prophet_ that they had.

"I think you mean congratulations," Draco corrected him, tightening his hold on Hermione's hand.

The older man chuckled and smoothed back a lock of his silvery blond hair. "No, I do believe I understand the definition of condolences," he retorted. "I also believe you are familiar with the terms of your inheritance."

Draco shrugged nonchalantly. "Don't care," he replied. "I have no interest in your money. We've been getting along perfectly fine without it."

"And when your mother's money runs out?" Lucius inquired as he sneered at the couple. "Or that, Merlin forbid, baby is born? Will you get a job, Draco, or send your little wife out to provide for you?"

"What my wife and I do is none of your concern," the young Malfoy replied. "Now, I'll say it one last time - get out of my house."

Lucius complied, but took his time leaving. He assessed the photos that lined the wall and then looked at his son. He smirked, but left without another word. It wasn't until the front door closed that Draco lowered his wand and loosened his vice-like grip on Hermione's hand. He massaged her aching palm and whispered an apology.

"You called me your wife," she mused, watching his thumbs press into her hand.

Draco shrugged. "It seemed to make him mad," he muttered. "I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable."

"It didn't," she confessed, blushing slightly. "I'm not happy that that article claimed we were married and pregnant, and I'm less happy that it was Ron who said it. But there was something kind of...spine tingly about hearing you call me your wife."

He held her hand, his grip less bone crushing than before, and smiled. "I liked saying it too," he murmured, resting his forehead against hers. "And one day, I intend to make you my wife."

She kissed him, letting her tongue run along the seam of his lips until he parted them. "When?" she asked.

Chuckling, he picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. "Not telling," he replied, returning to her lips. He carried her up the stairs to their bedroom, taking the steps slowly as she filled his sense of sight. "Cold?" he asked, placing her down on the bed.

"Freezing," she replied with a mischievous grin. Her hands ran under his shirt to feel the hard planes of his stomach. "Ya know, the best way to warm up is direct, skin to skin contact."

Draco pulled back, kneeling above her. "We don't have to..." he started.

"I want to," she interrupted as she slid his shirt up higher. "You just gave up your inheritance for me."

"That's really not comparable to you giving up your virginity," he replied. "Yours is a much,much bigger deal."

She shook her head. "I love you and I know you're the only person I ever want to be with," she said. "I know how much you love me, enough to risk losing your inheritance for me. I want to do this because it's you and I trust you and I know you won't hurt me."

Leaning down, he brushed his fingers across her cheek and tucked her hair behind her ear. "It _will_ hurt," he told her, brows furrowed. "I'll be as gentle as I can though."

She smiled and kissed him tenderly. "I know you will."

The sun had just begun to set when Draco awoke. Beside him, Hermione slept peacefully as her fingers traced circles on his stomach. He slowly slipped out of bed and headed to the bathroom to shower. A smile stretched across his face, one he was sure he wouldn't be able to shake for a long time. After drying off and dressing, he went downstairs to make a quick dinner. He had just removed a head of lettuce and a ripe tomato from the refrigerator when arms wrapped around his waist.

"Hungry?" he asked, turning in her arms.

"Famished," Hermione replied, but refused to let him go. "Am I smiling? My face hurts like I've been smiling for days. It's a good kind of hurt though, the kind you never want to go away."

Draco set the vegetables on the counter behind him and kissed her smiling lips. "You're beautiful when you smile," he murmured. "And you look better in my clothes than I do. Feeling okay?"

She nodded. "A bit sore, but that's to be expected, right?" she replied. Her smile slipped when he frowned. "You're not upset, are you? Was it bad? Was_ I_ bad?"

Draco chuckled at her sudden lack of self-confidence. "You were perfect," he assured her. "I just feel bad that I hurt you. I knew it would hurt you, but I'm not happy that it did."

"I'm not sorry that it did," Hermione stated. "I want to be with you, and it was my idea to do it. You have no idea how happy I am that you were my first."

Leaning forward, he kissed her gently. "And your last?" he hoped.

Hermione smiled. "My only," she replied.


	15. Chapter 15

I'm bored and waiting on other people to do their job so I can do mine. I'm okay with that because it means I can write, maybe read a bit if no one comes over. I gave up on _Matched _and moved on to _Legend. _I'm only a couple of chapters in, but so far it's good.

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Chapter 15  
"Four chairs in this room, and you sit on Draco," Harry groused with a roll of his eyes.

"Jealous?" Draco quipped as he tightened his arm around his girlfriend's waist.

Harry set down a bowl of crisps and shrugged. "Just make sure your hands stay above her clothes and away from anything a bathing suit is required to cover," he instructed. "So, I heard Lucius visited a few weeks ago. How'd that go?"

"Really great," Hermione replied sarcastically. "Draco pulled his wand on him. Lucius cut him off financially. Oh, and Draco did nothing to deny that report in the _Prophet_ about our 'marriage'."

"I didn't hear you refute it either," the blond snapped. "I believe the words 'spine tingling' were used to describe it."

Harry eyed Hermione sympathetically. "He's held a wand on her before. I'd lose my voice too," he replied. But his words did nothing to bolster her mood. Throwing his arm away, Hermione rose from her seat on Draco's lap and stomped up the stairs. "Stay out of my bedroom!" Harry warned loudly over the sound of her footsteps.

Sighing, Draco leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs. "Sorry about that," he mumbled.

"Things okay between the two of you?" Harry asked. "And please feel free to spare me the more intimate details."

"Things are great," Draco replied. "I got a part time job at the local market and she's been working at the library. I don't know. Maybe with the both of us working now she thinks I'm not paying enough attention to her."

Harry shook his head. "I don't think that's the case. Hermione understands that the two of you need the money. She wouldn't hold working against you. In fact, she seemed rather proud when she told me you were looking for work."

"Then what is it?" he wondered, running his fingers through his hair. "I mean, is it really just talking about my father's visit that set her off?"

Grabbing a handful of snacks, Harry sat back and shrugged. "I'm not Hermione, no polyjuice has been involved here today," he replied. "Go talk to her. And maybe try doing it without getting mad."

Draco took the stairs two at a time and found Hermione easily on the second floor. "I thought Potter asked you to stay out of his room," he quipped.

Hermione was seated on the side of an unmade bed with her wand in her hand. "I took it as more of a suggestion than an order," she muttered as she carelessly turned her wand over and over in her hands.

He sat down beside her and stilled her hands. "Talk to me?" he requested.

Shrugging, she leaned against his side and sighed. "Are we moving too fast?" she wondered. "You seemed almost happy when that article announced that we were married. It's only been, what, five months? Doesn't it scare you even a little bit that we've moved so quickly?"

"No," he answered simply. Hermione pulled away, putting a few inches between them. "I just mean that being with you doesn't scare me. It doesn't matter to me how we're together as long as we _are_ together."

"I want to be with you too," she murmured, shifting so she rested against his side once more. "I just want us to take our time."

"We will," he promised. "I'll go as slow as you want. Hell, I'll probably just let you propose. And I expect a ring. Something shiny, but masculine."

Hermione laughed and bumped his shoulder. "I'll see what I can do," she replied. "We should probably go back downstairs. Harry's gonna think we shagged in his bed."

A devilish gleam glinted in Draco's eyes. "Can we?" he asked, running his fingers through her dark curls.

"No," she said, swatting his hand away.

Admitting defeat, he rose and helped her up. Before they left, he pulled her close and kissed her, using his lips as a distraction while he untucked the back of her shirt. "I just want to rile Potter up a bit," he excused when she pulled away.

"Fine," she muttered, "but after he's had a conniption I'm telling him the truth."

"I can live with that," he replied as he led her down the stairs.

When Harry caught sight of Hermione's mussed hair and clothing, his face reddened and his jaw dropped. "This is a joke, right?" he asked, getting to his feet. "Please tell me it's a joke. You two didn't really shag in my bed. I don't want to think about you shagging in your own bed. Please tell me I don't have to burn my mattress because I really like that mattress. I don't want to have to buy a new one."

Hermione smoothed down her hair. "We didn't do anything but sit on your bed," she assured him. "The very edge of it, in fact."

"So close you practically fell off?" Harry asked. Laughing, she nodded her head and patted his cheek. "I hate you, Malfoy."

"What? Why?" Draco asked, smiling humorously. "Come on, Harry. We both know you don't mean that."

"For Hermione's sake, no, I don't," Harry agreed. "I just know you put her up to it because you're a dirty Slytherin."

Hermione glowered at his insult, but Draco laughed it off. "That's the same thing she calls me before asking me to shower with her," he retorted.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione left the family room unnoticed. Harry laughed as he clapped Draco on the back. "Okay, so maybe you're not as bad as I thought you were when we were kids," he admitted.

"I guess I could say the same about you," Draco replied. "I just wish Weasley would come around, for Hermione's sake. They were friends after the break up, right?"

"Not really," Harry mumbled. "I know she probably told you they were, and she certainly thought they were. But Ron checked out of that relationship long before she ended things. When she decided to move, he lost it. Called her a mudblood and everything, told her there was no way he'd live among muggles who were too clueless to see what happened in our world. So she told him they were through, and the next day she was gone."

Draco sat back down in his chair and stared off in the direction of the kitchen. "She told me he never hurt her."

"Sure, he never hit her or pulled his wand on her," Harry replied. "But the way he'd talk to her...George hauled off and punched him in the jaw one day after he overheard that argument."

"I understand now why you were so quick to tell me you'd kill me if I hurt her," Draco said.

Harry smiled, but nodded solemnly. "I know you're not gonna do anything to hurt her," he replied. Guilt roiled in Draco's stomach, and he told his former enemy about her bruised wrists. When he finished, expelling the words in one breath, he met Harry's eyes, and was grateful to find that his wand wasn't trained on him. "You alright?" Harry asked, brows furrowed with concern.

Draco shook his head. "No, but I hope I will be."


	16. Chapter 16

One of my lovely reviewers asked about _Divergent_ and _Insurgent, _so here's my opinion - read them! Book 1 starts off kinda slow, but the action really picks and carries through Book 2. The only complaint I had was that the characters always "say" things. No one "asks" or "replies", the author always uses "says." My other complaint is that Book 3 doesn't come out until Fall 2013. It's got a _Hunger Games_-y feel to it - dystopian society, uprisings. There's a love interest (just one, no triangle), but it's not the focal point of the story. They were great post-THG reads.

* * *

Chapter 16  
Draco awoke early to a cold bed. He looked around, suddenly sure that the last few months of his life had been a dream that had just ended. But he wasn't in his apartment, nor was he in his old bedroom at Malfoy Manor. This was his bedroom, located on the second floor of the Grangers' home. He shared it with Hermione, but where was she?

Pushing back the blankets, he padded through the house as quietly as he could. Perhaps she had fallen asleep in another room while reading, and he hated the idea of waking her. But she wasn't upstairs, and there was a faint light coming from the living room. Slowly, he descended the stairs, and she soon came into view. Her head snapped up and then she looked away when he neared.

"Baby? What's wrong?" he asked, taking her in his arms as he sat down beside her.

Hermione sobbed. "Funny choice of words," she muttered, hiccuping.

"What?" he asked, sweeping away the tears on her cheek.

His hand kept her from turning her face away. After her last comment, there was no going back. "I, um, we're gonna have a, um, a baby." She whispered the last word so softly, she wasn't quite sure he'd heard her.

A stunned smile crested on his lips. "You're sure?" he asked.

She had misconstrued his question and pulled away from him angrily. "Yes, I'm sure," she replied. "I wouldn't tell you if I wasn't sure. God, I don't even know why I bothered to tell you."

Draco, too, got to his feet. "Why wouldn't you tell me?" he wondered, hurt that she would have kept it from him.

With a shrug, she sunk down into the nearest chair and rested her head in her hands. "I don't know," she mumbled. "We agreed we'd take things slow. This isn't exactly slow."

"It's not like we planned it," he replied, moving back to the sofa where he mirrored her posture. "We were careless, but that doesn't mean I don't want this baby, Hermione. Do you...not want it?"

Fresh tears sprung from her eyes when she looked up at him. "I do," she whispered.

"But you're scared," he supplied. He moved from the sofa to the chair, and held out his hand to help her up. When she stood, he sat down and pulled her down onto his lap. With her head against his shoulder, she nodded. "I am too."

"We can't afford it," she whispered. "Even if we picked up extra shifts, it wouldn't be enough."

He kissed her temple and rested his hand on her stomach. "We'll figure it out," he promised her. "We have a house, we're able to afford three meals a day, you've got friends who would do anything to help you through this. We'll figure everything out when the time comes."

Hermione looked up at him, and he seemed grateful that her tears had stopped. "How are you so calm about this?" she wondered, placing her hand over his. "I'm freaking out over money and a pregnancy and what the Weasleys will say, and you're smiling as you reassure me that everything will be okay. How are you doing that?"

Draco shrugged. "I've wanted a family my entire life," he replied. "I was an only child. My father was never around, and when he was, he paid no attention to me. My mum...she was wonderful, but she was busy a lot too. I grew up on my own most of the time. And then you came along, bringing my mail and allowing me to cook for you, and it was the first time I thought 'This is what it's like to have someone really care about you.' Now we're gonna have a baby, and while it scares the hell out of me, I feel like I'm really gonna get that family I always wanted."

"I didn't know," she said, feeling guilty for all the horrible things she'd said about him when they were children. "Were you spoiled, or was that all an illusion too?"

Draco laughed. "I was definitely spoiled," he replied. "My father figured out early on that if he gave me whatever I wanted, I'd stay out of his hair. They didn't consider the adverse effects of that method of parenting."

"Will you spoil our baby?" she wondered.

"Yeah," he replied sheepishly. "I figure I can leave the discipline to you. I'll spoil her and you can handle the consequences."

A small giggle bubbled in her throat, mixing with the remaining hiccups. "You want a girl?" she asked.

"I don't know," he replied with a shrug. "I want it to be healthy. I want it to be happy. I want it to know that it has two parents who love it unconditionally. But, yeah, if I have to choose, I think I want a daughter. A little girl with your crazy hair and my mum's blue eyes who reads and spouts off random facts all day long. And at the end of the day, she'll curl up on my lap and ask me to read to her, like I used to do to my mum."

She rested her head against his shoulder and kissed his neck. "I think a little girl would be nice," she agreed. "We could renovate my parents' room to make it a nursery. I'm sure Harry would help us."

Draco's arms tensed around her. Looking up with concern shining in her eyes, Hermione touched his cheek. "Who do we tell?" he wondered. "Harry's a given, right? But what about the rest of the Weasleys? How do we tell them without it resulting in my removal in a body bag?"

"We don't tell them," Hermione decided. "Not right away, at least. I'm not averse to telling George either. But, sweetheart, these aren't decisions we need to make right now. There's plenty of time to determine who to tell and when to tell people. I don't care if we decide we're not telling anyone. As long as you're here, that's really all that matters to me."

Draco smiled. "You're definitely not gonna be able to get rid of me now," he murmured, pressing his lips to hers. Slipping his arm under her knees, he rose from the chair with Hermione in his arms. He quietly carried her upstairs and laid her down on their bed. Resting between her legs, he pushed up the hem of her shirt and kissed her stomach.

Hermione ran her fingers through his hair. "Draco?" He looked up and smiled at her. "Will you marry me?"

A stunned look appeared on his face. "Are you serious?" he asked. When she nodded, he moved further up her body, bracing himself on his hands. "I want you to really think about this because I wasn't kidding when I said I wanted a ring."

"I've never been more serious about anything," she replied with a laugh. "Seriously."

"So, that whole speech about slowing down...did you already know?" he asked.

Biting her lip, she nodded nervously. "I had just taken the test before you came upstairs," she admitted. "Are you mad?"

"Confused, yes. Mad, no," he replied. "Why did you say all of that if you knew we were gonna have a baby?"

Hermione looked away and shrugged. "To give you an out, I guess. If you wanted it."

Draco's fingers touched her chin, gently turning her face back towards him. "I never want an out," he stated. "I want you, I want our baby, and I want to marry you."


	17. Chapter 17

Someone remind me again what month it is. Because it doesn't feel like July today.

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Chapter 17  
Harry had just finished making lunch when he received an unexpected visitor. First there was the roar of the fireplace, then heavy footfall, and finally Ron called out his name as he walked through the house to find his friend. Harry peeked around the corner, catching Ron's eye, and the tall, lanky redhead jogged to meet him.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, furrowing his brow nervously.

"Hanging out with my best friend," Ron replied with a laugh. His eyes darted to the plate of sandwiches in Harry's hand. "Seems like a lot of food just for you."

Harry cleared his throat and shouldered his way past Ron. "I have company coming," he mumbled.

"Who?" Ron inquired, following him to the living room. He took a seat on the sofa and grabbed a sandwich from the platter. After taking a bite, his face screwed up in disgust. "Only Mione likes spicy mustard and pepper jack. Wait, is she coming over?"

Glancing toward the front window, Harry nodded as he watched Draco and Hermione approach. A brief smile ghosted on his lips when he saw Hermione laugh. "And, um, Dra...Malfoy's coming too."

Though he attempted to produce a nonchalant response, Harry could see Ron's face reddening. He opened the door before the couple opened the front gate. Draco waved and pushed it open to allow Hermione to enter first. She bounced up the steps and kissed Harry's cheek. Draco stood a step below them with his hands on Hermione's waist, and his forehead wrinkled when Harry wouldn't let them in.

"Ron's here," he warned them. "He kinda figured out you were coming, Mione, so I figured it wouldn't hurt to say that Draco was coming too. We can reschedule, if you want. I know you said you had something important to talk to me about, but if you're uncomfortable with Ron knowing too-"

"It's fine," Hermione decided with a small huff. She pushed past Harry and entered 12 Grimmauld Place. Behind her, Draco raised his eyebrows and offered his friend a sympathetic smile. Harry led him to the living room where Ron and Hermione were already seated at opposite ends. Draco sat beside her, but made no attempts to touch her. Harry took a seat next to Ron and eyed everyone nervously. Hermione glowered at Ron, while Draco seemed more interested in the food. "So, Ron, talk to any good reporters lately?" she inquired, reaching for a sandwich.

"Not recently," he replied. "Start shagging any of our other enemies lately?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Draco's not our enemy," she stated.

"Merlin, what's in that muggle water that's completely made you lose focus of who he is?" Ron wondered as he shook his head in disbelief. "It's like you've completely forgotten how he insulted you and made you cry. Remember the teeth thing? Or how about the fact that he was a Death Eater? Did you forget about that too?"

Draco put his arms around her to keep her from leaping over the coffee table to strangle Ron. But she sat perfectly still and remained calm. "I seem to recall _you_ insulting me and making me cry as well," she replied. "Maybe you're supposed to be my enemy too. At least Draco apologized for what he did when we were children. I must not merit the same respect from you."

"Ron," Harry warned.

"Maybe today isn't a good time," Draco said, getting to his feet. "Harry, we'll talk another day."

"Sure, run away," Ron muttered. "It's what cowards like you do best."

Harry rose from the couch, kicking the legs Ron had rested on his coffee table as he passed. "Come upstairs with me," he murmured, extending his hand to Hermione. With a roll of her eyes, she complied and Draco followed. Harry climbed the stairs until they reached the attic, then he closed the door and warded it to keep Ron away. "I didn't know he was gonna show up."

"It's fine," Draco assured him.

Hermione took a seat atop Harry's old school trunk and sighed. "It's not fine," she whispered. "I hate that you've been put in the middle of Ron and me, Harry. It's not fair to you."

Harry knelt down in front of her and placed his hand on her knee. "You're always gonna be my best friend, Hermione," he promised. "I'm not choosing sides, and I know you would never ask me to."

Draco stood behind her and rubbed her shoulders. "What do you think?" he asked her. Looking up at him, she nodded hesitantly. "There's something we needed to talk to you about," he said to Harry.

He moved back so he sat on the floor with his legs crossed. "I'm all ears," he informed them.

"Well," Hermione said as a smile crinkled her eyes, "I proposed, and Draco said yes."

"That's fantastic," Harry replied, his smile matching those of the happy couple. "Congratulations."

"There's more," Draco said.

"More?"

The blond nodded. "We're thinking about eloping."

"Eloping?"

"This weekend," Hermione added.

"And we want you there," Draco said, "because you're her best friend and we need a witness for it to be legal."

Harry nodded as he processed the information. "Why this weekend?" he asked.

Hermione took a deep breath. "There's one more thing we have to tell you," she started.

"More?"

Hermione nodded. "I'm pregnant."

"Pregnant?" His voice was a mix between shock and excitement. Leaping to his feet, he hugged the still seated Hermione as tightly as he could before he moved to Draco. "Wait, this is a good thing, right? It's okay that I'm excited for you?"

She breathed a sigh of relief. "You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that," she admitted. "I half expected you to try to kill Draco."

Harry laughed, but Draco's sober expression stopped him. "The thing is we're not telling anyone else yet. Especially not Ron or Mrs. Weasley, so this has to stay a secret amongst the three of us."

Harry bent down and kissed her cheek. "You have my word. I won't say anything," he vowed. "Will you name the baby after me?"

"What if it's a girl?" Draco asked.

With a roll of his green eyes, Harry replied, "Harriet."

Hermione laughed. "We'll discuss names another day," she promised. "So, will you do it? Be our witness and our baby's godfather?"

Harry beamed. "You want me to be the godfather too?" he asked. Hermione nodded and was soon in Harry's arms. "I'd love to. I'll be there."


	18. Chapter 18

This weekend my mom adopted a new kitten for me. He looks exactly like my boy who just passed away. He's an 11 week old orange tabby. My other cat is not amused by his constant energy.

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Chapter 18  
"You looked beautiful today," Harry said to Hermione before he left their house for the evening.

Hermione looked down at the simple gold band on her finger. "I can't believe I'm married," she replied happily.

"And to Draco Malfoy, the amazing, bouncing ferret, at that," he added with a laugh.

The wedding had been small - bride, groom, witness, and a justice of the peace. They'd dressed simply; the men in suits and Hermione in a long, white dress. Draco had tucked a red rose behind her ear before the ceremony had started. They exchanged vows, promises to love one another and remain faithful until the end of time, then Draco was the first to slip a wedding band onto her finger. Tears had clouded her vision when she attempted to put his on. It wasn't until they kissed that she realized he had been crying as well. Harry took them to dinner afterwards to celebrate before returning home.

"So," Harry said, leaning against the doorframe, "aside from giddy as a schoolgirl, how are you feeling?"

"Bit nauseous," she replied. "I'm glad you came with us today. I can't think of anyone else I'd rather have by my side when I got married."

He leaned in and hugged her, holding her close for a few extra seconds. "I'm glad I could be there for the both of you," he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. "Tell Draco to call me when he's ready to get started on the nursery."

After promising that she would, Hermione bade him good night and shut the door. Draco stood at the top of the steps and took her hand when she reached him. He was silent until they reached their bedroom. Then he said, "I have a surprise for you. Let's call it a wedding present."

"What is it?" she asked, knowing that he had nothing in his hands. From his back pocket, Draco pulled out a letter authorized by the head of Gringott's, the wizarding bank. "Baby, this is a lot of money."

He nodded. "My inheritance," he explained. "See, the Black money was supposed to come to me once my mother died. The Malfoy money, though, was mine to touch once I turned 17 or Lucius died, whichever came first. That was a stipulation Lucius was careful to keep hidden."

"I thought there was that Pureblood clause," she interjected. A smile touched Draco's lips as he recalled the conversation between his estranged father and himself.

Malfoy Manor had changed very little over the months since Draco had left home, but the palatial estate still made his skin crawl. The exterior was dark and foreboding while the inside was cold and stiff. At least twice on his walk up the front path did he consider turning around and abandoning his task. But he had a family now, one that would require more money than he made working in the bakery department of the local market.

And so he soldiered on, entering the house without knocking and seeking out his father in his study. Lucius didn't look up as Draco poured himself a drink and dropped into the leather chair across from the desk. "I want to talk to you about my inheritance," he stated.

Finally, Lucius set aside the papers he'd been looking over. "We already did," he replied, "before you so rudely dismissed me from your house. How is your wife?"

Draco chuckled. "Surely you don't believe the drivel that drips from Rita Skeeter's quill," he said, appalled that anyone would be stupid enough to fall for her overly sensationalized pieces. "I never married Granger. Living in that house with her was more of a necessity than a desire."

"You seemed rather close to her; touching her, calling her your wife. What was the meaning of that?"

"I thought it might make you mad," Draco answered with a shrug. "Did it work?"

A wry smile quirked up the left side of his father's mouth. "A little too well."

Hermione cleared her throat to draw him out of his memory. "So, what? He just signed over all this money to you?" she asked incredulously. "You tell him we're not married, and he's okay with letting you have your inheritance again?"

Draco shrugged. "It wasn't so much a 'Here you go, son. Have some money' moment as it was him pulling out the paperwork and me catching that over 17 stipulation," he explained. "So, I grabbed it and Apparated to Gringott's. I converted some of it so we have some savings left for when she goes off to Hogwarts, and I intend to continue working. This will just be a little emergency money in case something should happen. Plus, now we can afford to carpet the nursery like you wanted."

She couldn't help but laugh. "My husband, the Slytherin," she muttered.

He moved her onto her back and straddled her waist. "I like the way you say husband," he murmured as he captured her lips in a searing kiss.

"I like saying it," she replied.

Harry returned home, but he was not alone.

"What's with the tie?" Ron asked. The only light came from the fireplace, casting an eerie, orange glow on the sitting room and catching on the bottle of firewhiskey in Ron's hand.

"I was out to dinner," Harry replied, deciding that was all his friend needed to know.

Ron sighed and set the bottle aside. "With them?" he asked. Harry didn't answer. "She hates me, ya know. Can't say I really blame her."

Loosening his tie, Harry sat down across from him and sighed. "Let's not do this now," he muttered. "It's been a good day, and I don't want to ruin it."

"I hate that he gets to be with her," Ron continued, ignoring Harry's pleas for silence. "That day you told me he won because he apologized for all the stuff he did to her...what if I did that too? What if I went over there and told her how sorry I am? Would she take me back?"

Running his fingers through his dark hair, Harry replied, "No, she wouldn't."

"Because of him?"

"Draco loves her the way you should have," Harry stated impatiently. "He cares more about her than he does anyone else. He would do anything for her, and that's exactly who I want to see my best friend with. Not someone who spends his days drinking and blaming her for a death she had nothing to do with." Ron stared, mouth agape. "Think I didn't know about that? She told me that you yelled for half an hour about how she had a time turner squirrelled away, but she didn't care enough about Fred to bring him back."

They sat in silence; Ron feeling guilty, and Harry fuming. When he rose to leave, Ron grabbed a handful of floo powder and turned to Harry. "What I told Rita Skeeter - was any of it true?" he asked.

"Not my place to say," Harry replied.

"But it's over between her and me."

Sighing, Harry said, "Yeah, Ron, it's over."


	19. Chapter 19

Yesterday was surgery day, and today I'm back at work. More than a few of the people I work with think I'm crazy. I'd of thought they figured that out by now. I subscribe to my family's method of recovery - sleep and shower. It'll cure almost anything.

* * *

Chapter 19  
She hadn't expected to tell Ginny anything. Hermione had thought their lunch together in Hogsmeade would be an hour of discussing the potential reunion of Harry and Ginny. But then the food was served, and the keen-eyed redhead caught sight of the rings on her friend's left hand.

"Did you get married?" she asked, shocked and a bit upset that she hadn't been there to see it.

Hermione glanced at her hand and removed it from the table. "Yeah, Draco and I eloped a few weeks ago," she mumbled.

"Just out of the blue?" Ginny wondered, her words giving way to a deeper meaning.

A blush colored Hermione's cheeks and she placed her hands on her stomach. "We, um, decided we should get married before the baby's born," she replied. She looked up briefly to see the smile that stretched across Ginny's face.

"A baby?" she whispered. "You and Draco are having a baby? I'm gonna be an aunt?"

Hermione smiled, glad for the positive reaction she thought she wouldn't get when the time came to tell everyone else. "Yeah, you will be," she confirmed.

"That's incredible, Mione. I'm really really happy for you," she stated as her smile grew. It soon began to shrink and she leaned closer. "Does Mum know yet?"

"No, we've decided to stay mum on my becoming a mum, especially with your mum," Hermione replied. "Before you, Harry was the only person we'd told. He was at our wedding too. I'm not sure how to break this news to your mother."

"Well, Draco will be there," she supplied.

Hermione groaned. "Great, I'll be a widow sooner than I thought," she muttered.

Ginny chuckled. "Okay, Harry and I will be there too," she offered. "Harry can protect Draco, and I'll have your back. Unless you don't want her to know. She hasn't exactly been supportive of your relationship."

"She's the only grandmother our children will have," Hermione replied sadly. "I want her to know, but I'm afraid of her reaction."

Ginny nodded knowingly. "Okay, enough talk of my mother," she decided. "How are you feeling? Is it weird being pregnant?"

"Well," Hermione responded with a sigh, "everything hurts. The doctor explained that I'm widening to allow the baby room to grow. I'm nauseous and hungry all the time, which is just a vicious circle because I'm nauseous when I'm hungry and then I just throw it all up. Draco's hiding my pregnancy books from me."

Ginny laughed. "Why?"

Smiling, she bit her bottom lip. "Because I have a habit of overreacting to everything I read in them," she replied.

"So it's for your own good then." Hermione shrugged, not sure that Ginny was right. "Okay, aside from petty theft, how's Draco handling it?"

"She rented a video about a woman who gives birth naturally to a baby that's roughly the size of a watermelon," Draco lamented as he and Harry watched television. "Then she insisted that we watch it right after eating dinner."

Harry picked up the tape's cover and read the description on the back. "And did you?" he wondered, more horrified the farther he read.

"Yes," Draco exclaimed. "She then declared that I'm not allowed in the delivery room because she read in one of the books I haven't managed to hide yet that some men never want to touch their wives again after seeing their child's birth. And she yells at me every time she has to rush off to the bathroom because I _insist_ on cooking, and everything she eats makes her vomit. I'm not having sex again until I'm 40."

"Well, don't rule sex out completely," Harry joked. "Maybe just wait awhile before having baby number two. In fact, I recommend having number one first. Plus, sounds like Hermione has no intention of letting you touch her again after this."

A blond eyebrow rose. "Let's talk about you instead," he decided. "Why aren't you with Ginny?"

Harry shrugged and turned his attention fully to the TV. "She's got school," he excused. "I didn't want to be a distraction."

"And in a few months she'll be done, and you won't be able to say that anymore," Draco stated. "I feel like, in the interest of full disclosure, I should tell you that Hermione's having lunch with her right now. We also talked about Ginny being the baby's godmother. I figure she'll mention that to her at some point."

"Why not one of your friends?" Harry wondered. "You just never seem to mention anyone you were friends with in school, and you seem more than willing to let Hermione's friends fill all the roles."

Draco shrugged and changed the channel when a commercial come on. "Don't have many," he mumbled. "None that are like family, anyhow. Not like you and the Weasleys."

"They don't have to be like me or the Weasleys," Harry insisted. "And I'm not saying this because I think Ginny shouldn't be the godmother. I just think that the people you were close to before you met Hermione should be involved as well."

Shaking his head, Draco rose from the sofa to refill their drinks. Most of his friends had laughed at him for choosing to live the life of a muggle. The few who promised to support his choice had stopped speaking to him soon after the move. Only one person was a constant pen pal - Pansy Parkinson. Harry followed him to the kitchen and cleared his throat.

"I only ever talk to Pansy," he admitted.

"And Hermione knows?" Harry inquired. Draco nodded. "And she's okay with it?"

"Yeah, she's happy about it," Draco replied. "Pansy came to dinner one night just after we moved in here. The two of them talked and apologized. Hermione told me that Pansy said she was glad we were together because she makes me happy, and it had been too long since Pansy had seen me happy."

Harry leaned back against the counter and smiled. "So, ask her to be a part of things," he suggested. "Who's to say your kid can't have two godmothers? That is, if Hermione's okay with it."

With a nod of his head, Draco decided he would speak with his wife about the possibility of Pansy Parkinson having a role in their family. After all, he had overcome childhood prejudices by being with her and befriending The Boy Who Lived. The past animosity between the two women seemed to have evaporated with a few simple apologies. Hermione would say yes. She would want some part of his old life to blend with their new one.

When she arrived home hours later, arms laden down with shopping bags and a tired look in her eyes, Draco broached the subject. "She's the only friend I've still got," he said, his eyes pleading for a yes.

Hermione shrugged. "Sure," she replied. "I think Pansy should be the godmother. The only godmother."

"So, you don't mind that it's Pansy?" he asked.

"Why would I mind?" she wondered. "She's your friend, and she and I decided to put the past behind us. If this makes you happy, then I want to do it."

"I love you," he whispered, pressing his lips to hers.


	20. Chapter 20

Happy Friday! I'm almost done writing this story, so there should be a total of 26 chapters by the time I'm done. After that, I've got nothing else planned right now. Inspiration hasn't struck yet.

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Chapter 20  
By the time they broke the news to the Weasleys, Hermione had begun to show. Molly eyed her suspiciously, alternating her glares to watch Draco cook. Surely he would poison them all at supper. And so she watched, first Draco as he stirred a pot of spaghetti sauce, then Hermione who fiddled with the rings on her finger.

"How long?" the older witch inquired.

Hermione's hands fell to her lap and she snapped her head up to look at Molly. "How long what?" she asked.

Molly pointed to the wedding band. "How long ago did the two of you marry?" she asked, adopting her overprotective, motherly tone as she stared at the young witch.

"Three months ago," she whispered, awaiting the scolding that was sure to come.

"Supper's ready," Draco announced as he carried the sauce pot to the table, then returned to the kitchen to retrieve the spaghetti.

It wasn't long after they were seated that Molly continued questioning Hermione. "What made you decide to get married?"

"Because Hermione and I decided to start a family," Draco answered confidently as he prepared his wife's plate.

Molly's lips pursed as if she had tasted something sour. "Absolutely not," she stated.

"Excuse me?" Draco asked, putting down the tongs he used to serve the pasta.

"The two of you are children," she said, her voice rising with each word she spoke. "Neither one of you is capable of raising a child. Hermione, I understand you're upset about losing your parents, but playing house with this boy isn't the answer."

Rising from the table, Hermione knocked over her chair in anger. "We're not playing," she replied, ire rich in her voice. "Draco and I were both forced to grow up faster than other _children_ our age. We're more than responsible enough to raise a child together. God, what was the point of fighting a war, losing all those people, if people are still unwilling to overcome their prejudices?"

"I'm sure Draco has-" Molly started, but was quickly cut off.

"Draco _has_ overcome his prejudices," Hermione interrupted. "I was talking about you. If you'll excuse me, I'm not hungry."

No one spoke as Hermione left the dining room and made her way to the second floor. Arthur Weasley eyed his wife, ashamed by her outburst. He rose and clapped Draco on the shoulder gently before murmuring an apology. The younger man nodded and excused himself from the table. Taking the stairs two at a time, he quickly reached their bedroom and his crying wife.

"We're more than capable of raising this baby," he stated, sitting down beside her. "We love her and want what's best for her. We have plenty of money to keep us afloat. I don't know where she gets off saying that we can't do this."

"You don't think we're too young?" Hermione asked, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Not at all," he replied, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "It's like you said - we grew up quickly. At least we'll be together in this."

"Do you think they're still here?" she asked after a few moments' silence.

Draco looked back toward the bedroom door. "Sounds quiet down there," he replied. "Doesn't necessarily mean anything though. Mr. Weasley seemed angry. Thankfully, it didn't seem to be directed at us."

Hermione nodded. "He's really great that way," she said. "He's a lot like my father actually. I wonder what my parents would say."

"That they're glad you found a man who loves you," Draco guessed.

Hermione snorted. "Or they would agree with Molly," she muttered.

Sighing, Draco stood up and moved to the window. The sun had already set, casting their quiet neighborhood into darkness. "I'm not sure I understand," he stated. "Do you regret marrying me? Do you all of a sudden not want to have this baby?"

"That's not it at all," she exclaimed, moving to his side. Her hands touched his arm, his shoulder, his back as if she feared she would never be able to feel him again. "There is not one moment of our relationship that I would change. I love you, and that's never going to change."

Turning around, Draco held her face in his hands and kissed her forehead. "Let's get you fed," he murmured. His hands lowered and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders as he began to lead her from the bedroom. The living and dining rooms were abandoned, and the two plates set for the Weasleys were no longer on the table. The soft glow of a warming charm hovered over the food Draco had doled onto their plates, and he led Hermione to her chair.

"I talked to Pansy yesterday," Hermione said around a mouthful of pasta. "She asked if we needed help with the nursery." Draco nodded and wolfed down his food. Hermione set her fork on the side of her plate. "She's got a lot of really great ideas." Draco continued to eat without acknowledging her statements with anything more than a nod. "But I told her the baby would probably be fine sleeping in one of the empty drawers. Saves a lot of money on buying a crib."

Draco's head snapped up and his fork clattered to his plate. "What the hell?" he asked.

"Just checking to see if you're paying any attention to me," she replied with a small smile.

He picked up his fork and continued to eat. "My child is not sleeping in a dresser drawer," he muttered.

"I'll tell Pansy that," she replied.

Draco finished eating and began to clear the table while Hermione finished. "I'm thinking about learning how to drive," he stated as he made the short trip from the kitchen back to the dining room.

"Okay," Hermione agreed, picking up her own plate to bring to the kitchen.

"I'm serious," he said, following her with the pot of sauce.

Scraping her plate over the trash bin, she looked up at him and smile. "I know," she replied. "And I think it's a really good idea. We can't depend on taxis and the tube all the time, especially when the baby comes. I think this is a good idea, sweetheart."

Draco nodded as he loaded the dishwasher. "We'll need a car too," he mumbled.

"There's always my father's car," she suggested. "It should still be in the garage." Once more, his only response was a nod. She watched as he continued to clean up the kitchen, worry knitting her brows together as he dropped a pot in the sink. Something was bothering him, something he didn't want to discuss. There was a sinking feeling in Hermione's stomach that it had something to do with what had been mentioned upstairs. "I'm sorry," she told him.

Draco squirted more soap onto the sponge and continued to wash the pot the sauce had been in. "What for?" he mumbled.

She moved behind him and rested her hands on his waist before pressing her cheek to his back. "For everything I said that made you doubt how I feel about us," she replied.

Shutting off the water, Draco let his head drop with a tired sigh. "It's not that," he finally said. "Our kids will never have grandparents, not now that Mrs. Weasley doesn't approve."

He turned to face her and she wound her arms fully around him. "Yeah, but they'll still have plenty of people who'll love them."


	21. Chapter 21

So, I started working on something new this morning! And that's pretty much all I have to say!

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Chapter 21  
"So, are you planning to go the completely girly route - all pink and frilly - or something more neutral?" Pansy inquired as she surveyed the bedroom that would soon be transformed into a nursery.

Hermione surveyed the room before turning her attention back to the woman standing beside her. "We don't actually know that it's a girl," she replied. "Draco kind of just decided it would be a girl."

A wicked smile graced Pansy's face. "There's a spell, you know," she stated as she removed her wand from the handbag she carried. "A quick incantation, a few flicks of a wand, and you'll know if you're having a son or a daughter."

Glancing down the hall to make sure they were alone, Hermione nodded. "But don't tell Draco," she warned.

Pansy nodded and murmured the incantation. A soft pink hue glowed around Hermione's abdomen, and smiles lit the faces of both women. "It's a girl," she gushed, doing her best to keep her voice down. "You're having a little girl and we can dress her in pretty little dresses and put bows in her hair. And Draco will be overly protective. I won't be surprised if he refuses to let her go to Hogwarts."

Hermione laughed, envisioning exactly that. "Probably lock her in her room, refuse to let her get a wand," she added.

"Yeah, but if she's as smart as her parents, she won't need one," the dark-haired girl pointed out.

Her smile grew. "I'm just relieved that he hasn't unnecessarily gotten his hopes up for a little girl," she said. "Harry's coming by in a bit to help Draco get started on the painting while we shop."

Pansy placed her hand on Hermione's shoulder, stopping her from leaving the room. "Wait a second. You're not worried that they're gonna kill each other?" she inquired. "You aren't at all afraid that you'll come home and the room will be red instead of pink?"

"No, Draco was very specific about the paint color," Hermione replied, purposely obtuse.

Dark blue eyes rolled. "I'm being serious," Pansy stated. "They hate each other."

"So did we," Hermione pointed out. "And just like us, the two of them have managed to put their differences aside and become friends. It was Draco's idea to ask him to be the godfather. They've become really close these last few months."

Pansy nodded. "So we don't have to worry about bloodshed?" she confirmed.

With a soft chuckle, Hermione took her arm and led her downstairs to find that Harry had already arrived. The two old friends greeted each other with a warm embrace before Harry pulled away and smiled at Pansy. "What's on the agenda for the day?" he inquired. "Ya know, besides _not_ helping Draco and me renovate an entire room by hand."

Pansy snorted. "Right, like Draco's going to paint without the help of his wand."

Draco appeared with two glasses of water in hand and gave one to Harry. "Right, and you said you'd never be friends with Hermione Granger," he retorted.

"I'm friends with Hermione _Malfoy_," she corrected.

"What's the difference?" Harry wondered.

Pansy shrugged. "She makes him happy now," she replied, ignoring the blush that rose on her friends' cheeks. "It's hard to dislike anyone who can put a smile on Draco's face."

"I know exactly what you mean," Harry said, clapping Draco on the back.

Hermione cleared her throat. "We should get going," she stated, rising on the tips of her toes to kiss her husband's cheek.

"Keep her reined in," Draco instructed, his hand caressing the swell of her stomach. "Pansy has a habit of getting spend happy, especially when it's other people's money."

Pansy stuck her tongue out at her friend. "Fine, but I make no promises about my spending," Hermione replied. With a roll of his eyes, Draco kissed her goodbye and escorted the two women to the door.

Once they reached the sidewalk, Pansy looped her arm through Hermione's and sighed. "So, Potter seems nice," she said breezily.

"He is nice," Hermione agreed. "Of course, I figured that out about nine years ago."

"Yeah, you also figured out nine years ago that Draco can be a complete git."

"And I was right about him too."

Pansy laughed as they continued their walk, soon reaching an alley from which they could Apparate to the nearest shopping center. They went from store to store; Pansy suggesting items to buy and Hermione making mental notes instead of purchases. It was in the furniture store while Hermione looked at cribs that Pansy mentioned Harry again.

"Are he and the Weasley girl together still?" she inquired, fingering the lace trim of the decorative throw blanket draped over the side rail of the teak colored crib Hermione eyed.

Hermione shook her head and moved on to bassinets. "No, they broke up after our sixth year," she replied. "Ginny wants to, but Harry's a bit more...cautious these days."

"Has your relationship with the Weasleys gotten any better?"

"I've decided I'm not going to be bothered by their disapproval anymore," Hermione stated. "And it's not everyone. Just Ron and Molly. Arthur sent over a box of old books last week, and George has already offered to babysit. Bill and his wife Fleur are expecting their first baby as well, so we talk sometimes. Like I said, it's really just Ron and Molly."

A sympathetic frown settled on Pansy's lips as she sat down in a nearby rocking chair. "I think it's nice that you've got Harry on your side," she said. "What about him and Ron?"

Sighing, Hermione joined her and rested her hands on her stomach. "They don't seem to speak much. Harry said Ron's not exactly thrilled about his friendship with Draco and that he often makes plans with Draco instead of him."

"And what does Harry say about that?"

Hermione turned a wry smile on her friend. "Ya know, an hour ago he was Potter," she observed.

"We're both going to be spending a lot of time together, especially when the baby comes. I'm doing you a favor by setting aside past hostility toward him," Pansy stated, sitting up straighter and crossing her arms petulantly over her chest.

Laughing and shaking her head, Hermione rose from the chair and continued to browse. "Are you seeing anyone right now?" she asked as she moved on to changing tables.

Pansy shrugged and followed her. "Not really," she muttered. "I know Draco's told you about my father. It's sort of difficult to trust people. Well, men mostly."

Hermione placed a hand on her friend's shoulder. "You can trust Harry."

Pansy's only response was a timid smile.


	22. Chapter 22

I forgot my phone at home today, and I'm doing that reaching for it thing. It's like phantom limb syndrome or something. Speaking of phones, I'm up for a new one soon. Does anyone else have a Verizon smartphone, or any recommendations for one? I was thinking about getting the iphone, but my older brother is anti-Apple and will probably never speak to me again.

* * *

Chapter 22  
"What if we transfigure the furniture into a crib and changing table and whatever else we need?" Draco suggested. The walls had been painted a pale pink and soft yellow carpeting had been laid over the hardwood floor. After a month of shopping, Hermione had found nothing that appealed to her.

"Maybe," she murmured as she looked through Pansy's latest purchase - ruffly dresses, flowered hats, pink onesies, and tiny shoes. If Draco wasn't one hundred percent sure before that they were having a girl, he would be now. "I think Pansy has bought more clothes than the baby will ever be able to wear. We'd have to change her four times a day to wear each outfit before she outgrows them."

Draco took a seat on the floor and picked up a purple, wrap around headband with a yellow sunflower on it. "She's excited," he said. "I think after what happened when she was younger, she decided she'd never have kids. Maybe she's trying to live vicariously through ours."

"I don't begrudge her that after what her father did to her," Hermione replied. "I just wish we had more closet space."

Chuckling, he got to his feet and helped her up. "We can always use extension charms," he assured her. "On the closets and the clothes."

When she was on her feet, Draco pulled her against his chest and his arms wound around her back. "I think Pansy likes Harry," she shared, resting her chin on his t-shirt covered chest. "She asks me about him a lot - who he's dating, what he does when he's not in Auror training, if he lives with the Weasleys."

"They had similar upbringings. It kind of makes sense," Draco replied.

"Has Harry mentioned her at all?" she wondered.

He shrugged. "He mentioned that he was surprised she's changed so much," he said. "Like she's a bigger shock than me."

"Well, she did want to hand him over to Voldemort," she replied.

Draco pulled away and picked up the bags of clothing from the floor. "What if it's a boy?" he asked, eyeing all the pink.

Hermione took a bag and began to unpack it. "Doubting your ability to will yourself a daughter?" she asked as she hung up each item in the closet.

He shook his head and took an empty hanger from her hand. "No, there's no way you'd let us decorate like this or keep these clothes if you weren't sure it was a girl," he stated. "You know, don't you? You took a test or did some kind of spell, and you didn't tell me."

She winced at his flat tone. "Are you mad?"

"No," he replied with a shrug, putting a simple yellow sundress on the hanger. "It's nice knowing that all the effort we've put in wasn't for naught. You would have told me if it was a boy though, right?"

"Yes. Maybe. I think so," she mumbled. "I wasn't sure how I'd break that to you when Pansy suggested trying the spell. I know you've had your heart set on a girl since the beginning."

Leaning forward, he kissed her softly. "I would have loved a son just as much," he assured her. He received a smile in return. "And I know something you don't know too."

Hermione's smile grew as she moved closer and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her lips ghosted across his jaw. "Tell me?" she asked softly as she kissed a gentle trail up to his ear. It was a tactic that had worked so many times in the past, and she was sure it work now.

But Draco held firm, despite pulling her closer to him. "Nope," he replied, moving one hand to trace the curve of her stomach. "But I'd talk to Pansy soon."

Hermione pulled away, abandoning the shopping bags and her husband. Excitement took over when she reached the kitchen and the phone hanging on the wall. It had taken a good amount of persuasion, but after a month, she had convinced Pansy to get a telephone. It took longer to teach her how to use it. On the fourth ring, Pansy answered, and Hermione demanded she come over immediately. Without saying goodbye, Pansy hung up and Apparated into their living room.

"What's so urgent?" she asked, curlers in her hair, no makeup, and still in her pajamas. Her eyes widened with fear, but Hermione's smile let her know everything was alright.

"Draco said I should talk to you, and we were talking about you and Harry, and did Harry ask you out?" she asked in one breath.

The expression of surprise transformed into one of excitement. "Yeah," she admitted sheepishly as a blush colored her pale cheeks. "I mean, it's just dinner. It's not really a date or anything. We were talking about how we both wanted to try that new Indian restaurant that opened a couple of blocks from here, and the next thing I knew, we were making plans."

"That's so exciting," Hermione gushed, grasping Pansy's hands. "Harry's the best guy I know, and he deserves to have someone great in his life."

"I think he just wants to be friends," she countered. "I mean, we're the godparents to your baby, which means we'll probably be thrown together quite a bit. It makes sense that we attempt to get along."

Hermione held up her hands. "Okay, okay," she said resignedly. "Believe what you want, and I'll believe what I want. I would like to know why Draco knew about this and I didn't."

Pansy shrugged and made her way to the second floor. "He wasn't sure how you'd take it," she replied. "I think his exact words were 'let her have the baby first, and the cow second.' Whatever that means."

Directing Pansy to the bedroom, she guided her to the foot of the bed and began removing the curlers. "It's a muggle saying," she explained. "Having a cow is sort of like losing your cool."

"So, would you have a cow if things were to develop between Harry and me?" she asked. "Not that I think they will," she added hurriedly.

"I know you and I know him," Hermione replied as she worked the last curler from Pansy's dark, silky hair. "I'd be thrilled if things worked out between the two of you. Just as long as you're both happy, then I will be too."


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23  
Ginny curled the newspaper up into a ball and tossed it on the floor. "What's with all the pictures of Harry and that pug-faced miscreant, Pansy Parkinson?" she inquired. There was a hint of jealousy and anger in her voice as she eyed Hermione.

"Pansy's a very good friend," Hermione chastised, picking up the discarded paper.

"Of his or yours?" the fiery redhead continued.

"Both," Hermione replied with a tired sigh. "Now, I don't think someone as pregnant as I am should be picking up your trash. And will I be doing all of these party favors myself?"

Ginny pulled her wand from her sleeve, and in seconds, the favors for the upcoming baby shower were assembling themselves. "There - party favors done," she groused. "Back to Harry and Parkinson."

Taking a seat, Hermione propped her feet up on the coffee table and placed her hand on her stomach. Only two more months, she told herself. Two more months of back pain and swollen ankles, and the baby would be born. "They're friends," she stated.

"You told me the same thing about you and Draco," Ginny pointed out. "And now you're married to him and having his kid."

"So, you're concerned that Harry and Pansy are angling to be just like Draco and me?" Hermione inquired, crossing her arms. "Is that really such a bad thing? I mean, things have worked out pretty great between us. Who's to say that, if they're happy together, it would be so terrible?"

Fire burned in Ginny's eyes as she replied, "_I_ say it would be a terrible thing! Harry deserves someone good, someone who'll love him and respect him. Not some former Death Eater who hated him for seven years."

"No, you think he should be with you," Hermione stated bitingly. With a little effort, she managed to stand and glowered at her friend. "Because everything you just said about Pansy I'm sure you've applied to Draco as well. And we both know he's not the same person he was at Hogwarts. Give Pansy the benefit of the doubt too."

The front door opened just as Ginny got to her feet. Draco, with Pansy behind him, entered and stared menacingly at the young redhead. "Out, Weasley," he demanded. Hermione turned at the sound of his voice, low and deadly. Behind him, Pansy turned her head away, but Hermione was sure she heard a sniffle. They'd heard the argument, or at the very least, a part of it. Ginny held her ground, refusing to move and refusing to allow Draco to bully her. Taking Pansy's hand, he led her inside and held the front door open. "I said out."

Ginny stood straighter and crossed her arms over her chest. "No," she said defiantly. "Hermione invited me over, and I'm helping her with the decorations for her shower. I'll leave when we're finished."

Draco flashed his wife a quick look. "Ginny," Hermione said, "leave. We're done."

With a huff, she complied and pushed past Draco. She glared at Pansy and the hand that Draco still held tightly. "Trying to steal someone else who's already taken?" she inquired, leaving before Pansy could so much as open her mouth.

She shook off Draco's hand before he slammed the door shut. "I'm not...I wouldn't," she said, turning pleading eyes on Hermione.

"I know," she assured her with a kind smile. "Whatever you heard Ginny say, don't believe a word of it."

"Jealous cow," they heard Draco mutter unapologetically.

Hermione laughed and moved to his side, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "She once tried to turn my hair green when she thought I was getting too close to Harry," she shared. "She'll just have to get over seeing Harry with someone else."

"I really like him," Pansy admitted, a blush creeping up her neck. With a roll of his eyes, Draco left the two women alone and adjourned to the kitchen. Hermione moved back to the sofa with Pansy in tow. "He's always so nice to me, even though I was horrible to him when we were kids. He's gentlemanly. He pulls out my chair and holds the door open for me. And sometimes he smiles for no reason and takes my hand like it's the most natural thing in the world. Oh, and the other night when I wasn't feeling well, he came over with chicken soup and a bag full of chocolate bars."

"I've taught him well," Hermione sighed, laughing along with her friend. "So, he's happy too?"

"He seems happy," Pansy replied as Draco rejoined them with a plate of sandwiches.

He handed one to Hermione and took a seat across from them. "He hasn't shut up about you," he added, biting into his own lunch. "It's gotten pretty annoying, listening to him sing your praises these last few months."

Pansy's blush darkened and she averted her eyes. Hermione balled up a napkin and tossed it at him, hitting Draco square in the chest. "Must be nice to have a guy who'll do that for the woman he loves," she stated.

Smiling he rose to his feet, placed his food down on the coffee table, and leaned over it to kiss her. "I haven't stopped singing your praises since the day you let me into our building and warmed me up. And I never intend to stop."

Pansy sighed. "I want that someday," she said wistfully.

The front door opened and Harry entered. Draco moved away from Hermione to greet him, but Harry's eyes were solely set on Pansy. "So," he said, "who wants to tell me why Ginny came to my house?" Pansy looked away. Hermione placed her hand on her knee and told Harry about her conversation with Ginny. As she spoke, Harry's eyes darkened angrily. By the time she finished, he was at Pansy's side. He leaned down so his lips were near her ear. "It's not your fault," he whispered.

Draco beckoned to Hermione, and they silently left the room. "I could kill her father for messing her up the way he did," he grumbled, shutting their bedroom door. "Did you see the way she flinched when Harry came in? Like she expected him to hit her or something."

"Well, you can add Ginny to that list for running to Harry in the first place," Hermione replied with equal ire. "I just hate seeing Pansy so upset."

Draco sat down on the bed beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, drawing her closer. "I do too," he murmured. "But thankfully she's got Harry and us by her side."

"She loves him."

A smile touched Draco's lips before he kissed the top of her head. "He told me just after we got married that he couldn't see himself as a husband," he told her. "I think maybe that changed when he and Pansy started dating."

"I hope so."


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24  
Pansy slipped Hermione's wedding band onto her finger and held it up to the light. "I want one," she pouted as she added the simple diamond engagement ring Draco had presented her with after they were married.

"You can have that one if you go through labor for me," Hermione replied from the hospital bed just before another contraction hit.

She quickly slipped the rings off and returned them to the bedside table. "Not worth it," she quipped. "So, you're serious about not letting Draco come in, aren't you?"

"He's allowed in now," Hermione stated. "But once she's ready to come out, he's leaving. I don't want him to see any of it."

Smiling, Pansy moved to the open door and beckoned Draco in. She led him to the chair next to the bed and forced him to sit. "Don't make me lock you in," Pansy pleaded. "He wants to be here with you."

Draco took Hermione's hand, feeling the sweat the pooled in her palms. "I'll stay by your side the whole time, and I won't look down there," he promised. "But I have a right to see the birth of my first child."

"Promise you won't be completely disgusted by it?" Draco nodded. "And you swear that you'll still want to touch me once this is all over?"

His free hand ran over her stomach. "Well, you're gonna have to share me with the new girl in my life," he replied with a smile. "But yes, I-"

Her grip on his hand tightened painfully as she felt another contraction begin. "Scratch that," she said through clenched teeth. "You're never allowed to touch me again."

The doctor arrived and smiled when she saw Draco wince. Taking a seat at the end of the bed, she examined her patient and declared that their daughter would soon be here. "I'll just call in a nurse to assist, and pretty soon you'll see your little one."

Draco attempted to extricate his hand, but Hermione held on tighter. "No, please don't leave," she murmured, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. "It's too soon. I can't do it yet. It's too soon."

"No, it's not," he replied, running his thumb beneath her eye to catch each tear that fell. "She's right on time, the ultrasounds showed that she's strong and healthy. It's the right time."

"Okay, then _I'm_ not ready," she insisted.

He kissed the back of her hand and smiled. "I'm ready to meet her," he murmured.

"Me too," she admitted.

"Then let's do this," he said.

An hour later, Draco and Hermione were alone with their newborn daughter. The little girl, named Allegra Grace, slept peacefully in her mother's arms. "She's so beautiful," Hermione whispered, awe in her voice as she touched the soft cheek of her baby. A fine sprinkling of light brown hair covered her head and they were greeted by a crystal blue when she opened her eyes.

"Poor thing looks like she's got my chin," Draco lamented despite the ear-to-ear grin he wore.

Their fingers met and Hermione hooked her pinkie around his. "It'll look just as good on her as it does on you," she assured him.

Allegra whined softly when a knock sounded on the door and Pansy entered. "You have a visitor," she said, careful to keep her voice down.

Draco sensed the hesitation. "Who?" he asked, rising from the bed. From her place in bed, Hermione couldn't be sure who had come to see them. But the way her husband's ears reddened and his fists clenched, she was sure it was someone he didn't want there. "Fine. Let him in. He's got a minute."

Pansy nodded and exited the room, returning seconds later with Lucius Malfoy in tow. Draco stood by the bed, arms crossed over his chest, and blocked Hermione's view of the newcomer. Lucius said nothing as he eyed his son and then peered around him to catch a glimpse of the baby.

"How did you know we were here?" Hermione wondered. "It's a muggle hospital."

"Delilah Parkinson has a reputation as being a bit of a gossip," Lucius replied, glancing behind him to where Pansy stood by the door.

"That doesn't explain why you're here," Draco interrupted. From a pocket inside his jacket, Lucius removed a newspaper and handed it to his son. He skimmed the front page story declaring that his mother's killers had been caught. "This changes nothing. And why now? Why show up at this moment?"

The older man sighed. "My grandchild was just born," he replied tiredly. "I wanted to see her, at least once."

"You're crazy if you think you're going anywhere near my daughter," Draco seethed, shifting back as his father moved forward.

Lucius stopped moving, maintaining the distance between himself and his irate son. "If that's how you feel," he murmured. Turning, he moved back to the door and stopped. From the other side of his jacket, he removed a small blue blanket and handed it to Pansy. "For the baby. It was Draco's," he explained before leaving. Pansy followed.

"You okay?" Hermione asked when they were alone again.

Shaking his head, Draco returned to the bed and seemed to calm down once he was near the baby. "I don't get it," he mumbled. "This was supposed to be a happy day, and he just waltzes in and ruins it."

She moved Allegra into his arms. "It's still a happy day," she said. "Don't let him sour your mood." They sat in silence as they watched the baby sleep. Hermione, too, began to drift off after a long, exhausting day. Her eyes had just begun to close when Draco rose from the bed to settle Allegra in the bassinet. "Do you think he wants to be a grandfather?"

Draco turned back to look at her. "Lucius? A grandfather?" he asked. "He didn't want to be a father."

"You don't think there's even a small part of him that feels guilty?" she wondered. "Like maybe being a part of Allegra's life will make him feel like he's a part of yours as well."

He moved back to the bed and laid down beside her. "Think about what you're suggesting - letting Lucius Malfoy into our lives, into our family," he replied. "Is that really something you want? I know you want her to have grandparents, but is Lucius really the answer?"

Hermione shrugged and rested her head on his shoulder. "I don't know," she mumbled. "I don't even know if it's what he wants. For all I know, I imagined that look of remorse."

Sighing, he closed his eyes. "I'll talk to him."


	25. Chapter 25

I really meant to update more last week while I was on vacation, but laziness set in. There's something nice about sitting on the couch, watching movies, and playing with the kitties. I should really take a vacation more often.

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Chapter 25  
Draco paced the living room with a crying Allegra held close to his chest. Try as he might to calm her, nothing worked.

"I think she can sense your agitation," Hermione remarked, setting down a mug of coffee before taking Allegra from his arms.

He grabbed the mug from the table and took a long sip. "You're not the least bit nervous about Lucius coming here?" he inquired, quirking an eyebrow.

"Oh, I am," she replied. "I just hide it a little better than you do."

Draco laughed and continued to pace. Allegra had quieted down enough to eat and fell asleep against Hermione's chest. Draco had just refilled his cup when they heard a sharp knock on the front door. Abandoning the cup on the kitchen counter, he walked through the dining room, then the living room, and opened the door to find his father on the other side. Stepping aside, he granted Lucius entrance, then took a seat by Hermione's side.

"You got the blanket," he observed, noting that Allegra was wrapped in the blue blanket with the embroidered _DM_ on the bottom corner.

Hermione smiled. "She's attached to it," she replied. "She cried last night when Draco didn't put it in the bassinet with her."

The smallest hint of a smile lifted the corner of Lucius Malfoy's mouth. "I seem to recall Draco being the same way," he shared. "It went everywhere with him until he was four."

Draco snorted. "Because by then my father informed me that I was no longer a baby and it was foolish to continue carrying it around," he retorted, glaring at the older man. "Tell me, Father, why did you come here today?"

Sighing, Lucius sat back in his chair. "To explain something important," he stated. "I know you blame me for your mother's death. I do too. I thought I had let friends into our house. We ate, we drank, and when I woke up, your mother had been killed. Flint and MacNair both admitted to slipping a potion into my drink."

With a curt nod, Draco rose and left the room. Hermione winced when she heard their bedroom door slam shut and Allegra began to cry. Lucius shifted in his seat, as if debating whether to help her or not. Finally, he stood and crossed the room, holding out his arms to accept his granddaughter. She hesitated, glancing towards the stairs to see if Draco planned to join them once more. When she was sure he wouldn't, she allowed Lucius to hold the baby for the first time.

"I'm not entirely comfortable with this," she admitted.

"It's been awhile since I've held anything so small," Lucius replied, cradling Allegra in his arms.

"That's not what I meant," she murmured, looking down at the baby instead of meeting Lucius's eyes.

The older man chuckled. "I know," he replied, his voice sounding sympathetic. He rocked Allegra gently, smiling when her sobs subsided and her eyes closed. "I don't think I ever held Draco this way. He had nannies, and well, I wasn't the most attentive parent."

"Are you hoping to change that now?" she wondered.

He eyed her wearily. "I'd like to, but I don't think my son will let me," he said. "I've made many mistakes, and most of them are unforgivable. Taking up with the Greengrass girl was-"

"Stupid?" Draco interrupted, appearing at the top of the stairs. "Or how about disgusting? Despicable is the word I use most often."

Nodding, Lucius handed the baby back to Hermione and turned to his son. "Yes, I believe that about covers it," he said.

"No, that doesn't cover it," Draco angrily replied, descending the last few steps. "My mother hadn't even been dead a week when you started screwing her. Or did it start before Mum was killed? I was supposed to marry her, you'll recall. After all, you arranged it."

Standing straighter, Lucius pierced the younger man with a steely gaze. "I am fully aware of my actions," he said through clenched teeth. "And I regret them, especially where you and your mother were concerned. I'm not asking for complete absolution. I would, however, like to make amends with you. This is the only family I have left."

Draco moved to Hermione's side and placed his hand on the small of her back. "_This_ is not your family," he retorted, mirroring his father's stance. "You won't ruin it the way your ruined your own."

Knowing he would get no further with his stubborn son, Lucius picked up his walking stick and bade them goodbye. Draco watched from the front window as his father disappeared from his life once more. "I'm sorry," he whispered when he felt a warm hand on his back.

"What for?" Hermione wondered as she moved back to the sofa.

Shaking his head, he moved to the mantle and rested his arm atop it as he glanced from picture to picture. "For acting like him," he replied. "I've spent so many years being angry at him for what he put my mother and me through that I can't bring myself to even be cordial toward him. And did he honestly think that telling me there was nothing he could do to save my mother would make me feel any better?"

"I don't think that's why he told you about that," she said, placing the baby in a bassinet before moving to his side. "I think he just wanted you to have one less thing to blame him for."

Draco turned and wrapped his arms around her. "So...you think I should forgive him?" he asked, his tone devoid of emotion.

Resting her head against his shoulder, Hermione sighed and turned to look at their sleeping daughter. "I'm not going to tell you what you should do," she stated. "I think it's going to be a very long time before you're able to forgive him. He wants to see his granddaughter grow up though. He still makes me nervous, but I think he wants to change."

"If he hurts either of you-"

"I know," she replied with a smile. "Because this is your family, and you'd do anything to protect it."

"He won't hurt either of you," Draco vowed. "Not as long as I'm around. And I swear, I'll never be like him. You and Allegra come first."

Placing a kiss on his jaw, she replied, "You've already proved that you're nothing like him."


	26. Chapter 26

And we've come to the last chapter. As always, I'm greatly appreciative that you liked and read my story!

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Epilogue  
"It's too soon," Hermione complained.

Draco rounded the bed and retrieved a clean pair of socks from the dresser. "You say that about everything," he said with a smile. "What is it now?"

She pulled the covers over her head, leaving behind a muffled voice as she spoke. "Allie going to Hogwarts. It's too soon. We didn't get enough time with her, and now she's just leaving us. Just like that. Leaving."

He moved to her side of the bed and pulled back the comforter. "First of all, you knew that she would get her letter the day she turned eleven," he said calmly. "Second, it's not like she's never coming back. And third, we have two other children who are still years away from going away to school."

"But couldn't we have continued to raise her as a muggle and hidden the letters when they came in?" she asked, sounding more and more desperate to hold onto her first born as the minutes ticked away.

Pushing away the blankets completely, Draco grabbed her hands and pulled her into a seated position. "Yeah, that definitely would have worked," he replied, rolling his eyes. "Didn't Harry's family try that? It worked out real well for them from what I've heard. I don't want Hagrid breaking down our door."

With Hermione finally out of bed, he ushered her from the room and down to the first floor. They entered the kitchen to find three children patiently awaiting their arrival. Allegra, the oldest, was already dressed in her Hogwarts uniform with her brown curls neatly plaited down her back. Beside her sat seven year old Caleb, whose blond hair and gray eyes mirrored his father's. Across from the pair, in the seat beside the one usually occupied by Hermione, Ayla bounced excitedly when she spotted her parents. Her light brown hair hung in tangled curls to the middle of her back and her brown eyes sparkled when she reached for her father.

"Was Mum crying again?" Caleb asked Allegra, trying his hardest to keep his voice at a whisper.

Allegra looked to her mother and frowned sadly. "Yeah, Cale, I think so," she replied.

Vacating his chair, Caleb rounded the table and hugged his mother. "Don't worry," he told her with a smile. "By the time Ayla goes, Leggie will be done."

"Not helping," Draco muttered, sending him back to his chair. With Ayla in his arms, he turned to the kitchen and soon breakfast floated out to the table. He sat down with the four year old on his lap, but she quickly scurried to her mother's side.

"I won't leave you, Mama," she promised, slipping her small hand into Hermione's.

Smiling, Hermione kissed her round cheek and scooped a small portion of eggs onto her plate. It was an innocent vow, one Hermione knew the little girl would not be able to keep. Ayla had already begun to show signs of magic, and in seven years, she would leave for school.

The family of five ate in silence. Occasionally, Caleb would open his mouth to say something smart, but a look from Draco made him close it once more. When Allegra finished, she pushed her plate away and cleared her throat. "Are Uncle Harry and Auntie Pansy coming to the train station with us?" she asked. She spoke softly; a trait Draco often accredited to his mother.

"They'll meet us there," he told her.

"And Papa?"

Draco clenched his fists beneath the table. Eleven years hadn't been a long enough time for him to forgive his father, but his children had developed a definitive attachment to the older man. At Hermione's behest, he was invited to birthdays and holidays, but the children had never visited Malfoy Manor.

"Yeah, baby, him too."

"What did you tell your friends?" Caleb asked. "Ya know, when you said you weren't coming back to school this year."

Allegra looked to her silent mother before answering. "Mummy said she told her friends she was transferring to a boarding school in Scotland when she was my age," she replied. "So, I used it too."

"I'm coming up with something better when I go," he declared. "Like alien abduction or..."

"Military school," Draco provided. "Keep it up and you really might wind up at that academy we drove past last week."

Hermione cleared her throat and her plate. "Are you all packed, Allie?" she inquired, rising from the table. "You found the blue sweater you were looking for?"

"Yeah, I found it," she replied, taking her plate and following her mother to the kitchen. She put her plate in the sink and turned to Hermione, wrapping her arms around her waist. "It's okay, Mum. It's like you said - Hogwarts will be different now, safer. Teddy will be there, and I know you and Daddy and Uncle Harry and Nana Andromeda all asked him to look after me."

"You forgot Aunt Pansy," Hermione added, cracking her first smile all morning. With a sigh, it slipped away just as quickly as it had come. "I just hate the idea of you not being here."

Allegra clenched her arms. "Christmas will be here before you know it," she pointed out. "And I'll write everyday until you and Daddy are sick of hearing from me."

"Not possible," Hermione murmured. Draco stuck his head into the kitchen to remind them that they had to leave soon.

"Were you excited to learn magic when you were my age?" Allegra asked, pulling away to gather her luggage. "I don't remember you or Daddy doing a lot of magic when I was little. Not until after Ayla was born. Why is that?"

Hermione chuckled and helped pack the last few items into Allegra's trunk. "We don't really do that much now," she replied. "There was a time, just before you were born, when your father and I needed a break from the wizarding world. Living here, you have to be careful how and where you use magic. Remember the time Daddy used it to fix the car and the mailman walked by? Sometimes it's just easier to do things the regular way. Plus, we thought it might be better for the three of you to have a few normal years before going to Hogwarts."

The young Malfoy shut her trunk and sat down on top of it. "I just hope I make a friend like Uncle Harry," she said wistfully, staring at the tree outside her bedroom window. The house had been renovated shortly after Hermione learned she was pregnant with Caleb, and a room had been made in the attic for the oldest.

"Uncle Harry got your mother in more and more trouble as each school year passed," Draco interrupted. "You don't want a friend like Uncle Harry."

"Okay, what about that other guy?" she asked. "Rob or Rick or whatever."

"Ron," Hermione corrected. "He, um, wasn't a bad friend to have around when you needed a good laugh."

Allegra quirked an eyebrow. "And when you didn't need a laugh?"

Draco scowled. "Then he was pretty much useless," he muttered. Taking her by the hands, he pulled her off of the trunk and levitated it downstairs. If his father had been a sore subject for the past twelve years, then the Weasleys had been a dull ache that never went away. Despite her efforts, Hermione had never been able to convince Molly to be involved in her children's lives. Shortly after Allegra had been born, the first Weasley grandchild came into the world and occupied all of the older woman's time. Ron had been petulant, insisting that he and Hermione could never again be friends after their break up. Then there was Ginny, who stopped speaking to Hermione after the announcement of Pansy and Harry's engagement.

"But he's related to the guy who runs the joke shop in Diagon Alley, right?" she asked, following Draco downstairs with Hermione a few steps behind her. "I like him, and he was funny."

"How much free stuff did he give you?" Draco inquired, setting the trunk down by the front door.

Allegra's cheeks warmed. "Just a couple of things," she mumbled. "He gave me a notebook that never runs out of pages and a quill that's charmed to always stay inked. Said he made one for you too, Mum, when you were still in school."

"I still have it," Hermione confirmed. "Only Fred, his brother, made mine. It had a little two-way communication feature to it so Fred and I could write to one another. It's a simple charm really. One I could put on yours if you wanted me to."

Nodding excitedly, the little girl removed the journal from her bag and waited patiently for her mother to work her magic. Caleb and Ayla joined them just as Allegra returned the journal to its place for safekeeping. She turned to her father and slipped her hand into his. "Ready, Daddy?" she asked.

Draco gave her hand a gentle, loving squeeze and shook his head. "It's too soon."

The End


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